Installing Love-Love In Terms of Computer
Customer Service Rep: Can you install LOVE?
Customer: I can do that. I'm not very technical, but I think I am ready to install now. What do I do first?
Customer Service Rep: The first step is to open your HEART. Have you located your HEART ma'am?
Customer: Yes I have, but there are several programs running right now.Is it okay to install while they are running?
Customer Service Rep: What programs are running ma'am?
Customer: Let me see....I have PASTHURT.EXE, LOWESTEEM.EXE, GRUDGE.EXE, and RESENTMENT.COM running right now.
Customer Service Rep: No problem. LOVE will automatically erase PASTHURT.EXE from your current operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory, but it will no longer disrupt other programs. LOVE will eventually overwrite LOWESTEEM.EXE with a module of its own called HIGHESTEEM.EXE. However, you have to completely turn off GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM. Those programs prevent LOVE from being properly installed. Can you turn those off ma'am?
Customer: I don't know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how?
Customer Service Rep: My pleasure. Go to your Start menu and invoke FORGIVENESS.EXE. Do this as many times as necessary until GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM have been completely erased.
Customer: Okay, I'm done. LOVE has started installing itself automatically. Is that normal?
Customer Service Rep: Yes it is. You should receive a message that says it will reinstall for the life of your HEART. Do you see that message?
Customer: Yes I do. Is it completely installed?
Customer Service Rep: Yes, but remember that you have only the base program. You need to begin connecting to other HEARTS in order to get the upgrades.
Customer: Oops...I have an error message already. What should I do?
Customer Service Rep: What does the message say?
Customer: It says "ERROR 412 - PROGRAM NOT RUN ON INTERNAL COMPONENTS". What does that mean?
Customer Service Rep: Don't worry ma'am, that's a common problem. It means that the LOVE program is set up to run on external HEARTS but has not yet been run on your HEART. It is one of those complicated programming things, but in non-technical terms it means you have to "LOVE" your own machine before It can "LOVE"others.
Customer: So what should I do?
Customer Service Rep: Can you find the directory called "SELF-ACCEPTANCE"?
Customer: Yes, I have it.
Customer Service Rep: Excellent, you are getting good at this.
Customer: Thank you.
Customer Service Rep: You're welcome. Click on the following files and then copy them to the "MYHEART" directory: FORGIVESELF.DOC, SELFESTEEM.TXT, EALIZEWORTH.TXT, and GOODNESS.DOC. The system will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching any faulty programming. Also, you need to delete SELFCRITIC.EXE from all directories, and then empty your recycle bin afterwards to make sure it is completely gone and never comes back.
Customer: Got it. Hey! My HEART is filling up with really neat files. SMILE.MPG is playing on my monitor right now and it shows that WARMTH.COM, PEACE.EXE, and CONTENTMENT.COM are copying themselves all over my HEART!
Customer Service Rep: Then LOVE is installed and running. You should be able to handle it from here. One more thing before I go...
Customer: Yes?
Customer Service Rep: LOVE is freeware. Be sure to give it and its various modules to everybody you meet. They will in turn share it with other people and they will return some really neat modules back to you.
Customer: I will. Thank you for your help.
Customer: I can do that. I'm not very technical, but I think I am ready to install now. What do I do first?
Customer Service Rep: The first step is to open your HEART. Have you located your HEART ma'am?
Customer: Yes I have, but there are several programs running right now.Is it okay to install while they are running?
Customer Service Rep: What programs are running ma'am?
Customer: Let me see....I have PASTHURT.EXE, LOWESTEEM.EXE, GRUDGE.EXE, and RESENTMENT.COM running right now.
Customer Service Rep: No problem. LOVE will automatically erase PASTHURT.EXE from your current operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory, but it will no longer disrupt other programs. LOVE will eventually overwrite LOWESTEEM.EXE with a module of its own called HIGHESTEEM.EXE. However, you have to completely turn off GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM. Those programs prevent LOVE from being properly installed. Can you turn those off ma'am?
Customer: I don't know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how?
Customer Service Rep: My pleasure. Go to your Start menu and invoke FORGIVENESS.EXE. Do this as many times as necessary until GRUDGE.EXE and RESENTMENT.COM have been completely erased.
Customer: Okay, I'm done. LOVE has started installing itself automatically. Is that normal?
Customer Service Rep: Yes it is. You should receive a message that says it will reinstall for the life of your HEART. Do you see that message?
Customer: Yes I do. Is it completely installed?
Customer Service Rep: Yes, but remember that you have only the base program. You need to begin connecting to other HEARTS in order to get the upgrades.
Customer: Oops...I have an error message already. What should I do?
Customer Service Rep: What does the message say?
Customer: It says "ERROR 412 - PROGRAM NOT RUN ON INTERNAL COMPONENTS". What does that mean?
Customer Service Rep: Don't worry ma'am, that's a common problem. It means that the LOVE program is set up to run on external HEARTS but has not yet been run on your HEART. It is one of those complicated programming things, but in non-technical terms it means you have to "LOVE" your own machine before It can "LOVE"others.
Customer: So what should I do?
Customer Service Rep: Can you find the directory called "SELF-ACCEPTANCE"?
Customer: Yes, I have it.
Customer Service Rep: Excellent, you are getting good at this.
Customer: Thank you.
Customer Service Rep: You're welcome. Click on the following files and then copy them to the "MYHEART" directory: FORGIVESELF.DOC, SELFESTEEM.TXT, EALIZEWORTH.TXT, and GOODNESS.DOC. The system will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching any faulty programming. Also, you need to delete SELFCRITIC.EXE from all directories, and then empty your recycle bin afterwards to make sure it is completely gone and never comes back.
Customer: Got it. Hey! My HEART is filling up with really neat files. SMILE.MPG is playing on my monitor right now and it shows that WARMTH.COM, PEACE.EXE, and CONTENTMENT.COM are copying themselves all over my HEART!
Customer Service Rep: Then LOVE is installed and running. You should be able to handle it from here. One more thing before I go...
Customer: Yes?
Customer Service Rep: LOVE is freeware. Be sure to give it and its various modules to everybody you meet. They will in turn share it with other people and they will return some really neat modules back to you.
Customer: I will. Thank you for your help.
A Teacher's Lesson
There is a story many years ago of an elementary teacher. Her name was Mrs. Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same.
But that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard. Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners. He is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.
Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.
Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer - the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."
But that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard. Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.
At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners. He is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.
Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children.
Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer - the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.
They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."
A Gift of Love
The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps. She paid the driver and, using her hands to feel the location of the seats, walked down the aisle and found the seat he'd told her was empty. Then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and rested her cane against her leg.
It had been a year since Susan, 34, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-pity. And all she had to cling to was her husband, Mark.
Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all his heart. When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again.
Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city. At first, this comforted Susan, and fulfilled Mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task.
Soon, however, Mark realized the arrangement wasn't working. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to himself. But she was still so fragile, so angry - how would she react? Just as he predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again.
"I'm blind!", she responded bitterly. "How am I supposed to know where I am going? I feel like you're abandoning me."
Mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day.
He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, to determine where she was and how to adapt to her new environment. He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat.
Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus-riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, And his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... Each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it! She was going to work all by herself.
On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying the fare to exit the bus, the driver said, "Boy, I sure do envy you." Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year? Curious, she asked the driver, "Why do you say that you envy me?"
The driver responded, "It must feel good to be taken care of and protected like you are." Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, and again asked, "What do you mean?"
The driver answered, "You know, every morning for the past week, a fine-looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you as you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches until you enter your office building.
Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one lucky lady." Tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. For although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt Mark's presence. She was lucky, so lucky, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe - the gift of love that can bring light where there is darkness.
It had been a year since Susan, 34, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-pity. And all she had to cling to was her husband, Mark.
Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all his heart. When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again.
Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself. Mark volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city. At first, this comforted Susan, and fulfilled Mark's need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task.
Soon, however, Mark realized the arrangement wasn't working. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to himself. But she was still so fragile, so angry - how would she react? Just as he predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again.
"I'm blind!", she responded bitterly. "How am I supposed to know where I am going? I feel like you're abandoning me."
Mark's heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day.
He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, to determine where she was and how to adapt to her new environment. He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat.
Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own. Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus-riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, And his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... Each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it! She was going to work all by herself.
On Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying the fare to exit the bus, the driver said, "Boy, I sure do envy you." Susan wasn't sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year? Curious, she asked the driver, "Why do you say that you envy me?"
The driver responded, "It must feel good to be taken care of and protected like you are." Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, and again asked, "What do you mean?"
The driver answered, "You know, every morning for the past week, a fine-looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you as you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches until you enter your office building.
Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one lucky lady." Tears of happiness poured down Susan's cheeks. For although she couldn't physically see him, she had always felt Mark's presence. She was lucky, so lucky, for he had given her a gift more powerful than sight, a gift she didn't need to see to believe - the gift of love that can bring light where there is darkness.
The Love Letter
I was always a little in awe of Great-aunt Stephina Roos. Indeed, as children we were all frankly terrified of her. The fact that she did not live with the family, preferring her tiny cottage and solitude to the comfortable but rather noisy household where we were brought up-added to the respectful fear in which she was held.
We used to take it in turn to carry small delicacies which my mother had made down from the big house to the little cottage where Aunt Stephia and an old colored maid spent their days. Old Tnate Sanna would open the door to the rather frightened little messenger and would usher him-or her - into the dark voor-kamer, where the shutters were always closed to keep out the heat and the flies. There we would wait, in trembling but not altogether unpleasant.
She was a tiny little woman to inspire so much veneration. She was always dressed in black, and her dark clothes melted into the shadows of the voor-kamer and made her look smaller than ever. But you felt. The moment she entered. That something vital and strong and somehow indestructible had come in with her, although she moved slowly, and her voice was sweet and soft.
She never embraced us. She would greet us and take out hot little hands in her own beautiful cool one, with blue veins standing out on the back of it, as though the white skin were almost too delicate to contain them.
Tante Sanna would bring in dishes of sweet, sweet, sticky candy, or a great bowl of grapes or peaches, and Great-aunt Stephina would converse gravely about happenings on the farm ,and, more rarely, of the outer world.
When we had finished our sweetmeats or fruit she would accompany us to the stoep, bidding us thank our mother for her gift and sending quaint, old-fashioned messages to her and the Father. Then she would turn and enter the house, closing the door behind, so that it became once more a place of mystery.
As I grew older I found, rather to my surprise, that I had become genuinely fond of my aloof old great-aunt. But to this day I do not know what strange impulse made me take George to see her and to tell her, before I had confided in another living soul, of our engagement. To my astonishment, she was delighted.
"An Englishman,"she exclaimed."But that is splendid, splendid. And you,"she turned to George,"you are making your home in this country? You do not intend to return to England just yet?"
She seemed relieved when she heard that George had bought a farm near our own farm and intended to settle in South Africa. She became quite animated, and chattered away to him.
After that I would often slip away to the little cottage by the mealie lands. Once she was somewhat disappointed on hearing that we had decided to wait for two years before getting married, but when she learned that my father and mother were both pleased with the match she seemed reassured.
Still, she often appeared anxious about my love affair, and would ask questions that seemed to me strange, almost as though she feared that something would happen to destroy my romance. But I was quite unprepared for her outburst when I mentioned that George thought of paying a lightning visit to England before we were married."He must not do it,"she cried."Ina, you must not let him go. Promise me you will prevent him."she was trembling all over. I did what I could to console her, but she looked so tired and pale that I persuaded her to go to her room and rest, promising to return the next day.
When I arrived I found her sitting on the stoep. She looked lonely and pathetic, and for the first time I wondered why no man had ever taken her and looked after her and loved her. Mother had told me that Great-aunt Stephina had been lovely as a young girl, and although no trace of that beauty remained, except perhaps in her brown eyes, yet she looked so small and appealing that any man, one felt, would have wanted to protect her.
She paused, as though she did not quite know how to begin.
Then she seemed to give herself, mentally, a little shake. "You must have wondered ", she said, "why I was so upset at the thought of young George's going to England without you. I am an old woman, and perhaps I have the silly fancies of the old, but I should like to tell you my own love story, and then you can decide whether it is wise for your man to leave you before you are married."
"I was quite a young girl when I first met Richard Weston. He was an Englishman who boarded with the Van Rensburgs on the next farm, four or five miles from us. Richard was not strong. He had a weak chest, and the doctors had sent him to South Africa so that the dry air could cure him. He taught the Van Rensburg children, who were younger than I was, though we often played together, but he did this for pleasure and not because he needed money.
"We loved one another from the first moment we met, though we did not speak of our love until the evening of my eighteenth birthday. All our friends and relatives had come to my party, and in the evening we danced on the big old carpet which we had laid down in the barn. Richard had come with the Van Rensburgs, and we danced together as often as we dared, which was not very often, for my father hated the Uitlanders. Indeed, for a time he had quarreled with Mynheer Van Rensburg for allowing Richard to board with him, but afterwards he got used to the idea, and was always polite to the Englishman, though he never liked him.
"That was the happiest birthday of my life, for while we were resting between dances Richard took me outside into the cool, moonlit night, and there, under the stars ,he told me he loved me and asked me to marry him. Of course I promised I would, for I was too happy to think of what my parents would say, or indeed of anything except Richard was not at our meeting place as he had arranged. I was disappointed but not alarmed, for so many things could happen to either of us to prevent out keeping our tryst. I thought that next time we visited the Van Ransburgs, I should hear what had kept him and we could plan further meetings…
"So when my father asked if I would drive with him to Driefontein I was delighted. But when we reached the homestead and were sitting on the stoep drinking our coffee, we heard that Richard had left quite suddenly and had gone back to England. His father had died, and now he was the heir and must go back to look after his estates.
"I do not remember very much more about that day, except that the sun seemed to have stopped shining and the country no longer looked beautiful and full of promise, but bleak and desolate as it sometimes does in winter or in times of drought. Late that afternoon, Jantje, the little Hottentot herd boy, came up to me and handed me a letter , which he said the English baas had left for me. It was the only love letter I ever received, but it turned all my bitterness and grief into a peacefulness which was the nearest I could get, then, to happiness. I knew Richard still loved me, and somehow, as long as I had his letter, I felt that we could never be really parted, even if he were in England and I had to remain on the farm. I have it yet, and though I am an old, tired woman, it still gives me hope and courage."
"I must have been a wonderful letter, Aunt Stephia,"I said
The old lady came back from her dreams of that far-off romance."Perhaps," she said, hesitating a little, "perhaps, my dear, you would care to read it ?"
"I should love to , Aunt Stephia,"I said gently
She rose at once and tripped into the house as eagerly as a young girl. When she came back she handed me a letter, faded and yellow with age, the edges of the envelope worn and frayed as though it had been much handled. But when I came to open it I found that the seal was unbroken.
"Open it ,open it,"said Great-aunt Stephia, and her voice was shaking
I broke the seal and read.
It was not a love letter in the true sense of the word, but pages of the minutest directions of how"my sweetest Phina"was to elude her father's vigilance, creep down to the drift at night and there meet Jantje with a horse which would take her to Smitsdorp. There she was to go to "my true friend, Henry Wilson",who would give her money and make arrangements for her to follow her lover to Cape Town and from there to England ," where, my love, we can he be married at once. But if, my dearest, you are not sure that you can face lift with me in a land strange to you, then do not take this important step, for I love you too much to wish you the smallest unhappiness. If you do not come, and if I do not hear from you, then I shall know that you could never be happy so far from the people and the country which you love. If, however, you feel you can keep your promise to me, but are of too timid and modest a journey to England unaccompanied, then write to me, and I will, by some means, return to fetch my bride."
I read no further.
"But Aunt Phina!"I gasped. "Why…why…?"
The old lady was watching me with trembling eagerness, her face flushed and her eyes bright with expectation."Read it aloud, my dear,"she said."I want to hear every word of it. There was never anyone I could trust…Uitlanders were hated in my young days…I could not ask anyone."
"But, Auntie, don't you even know what he wrote?"
The old lady looked down, troubled and shy like a child who has unwittingly done wrong.
"No, dear," she said, speaking very low."You see, I never learned to read.
We used to take it in turn to carry small delicacies which my mother had made down from the big house to the little cottage where Aunt Stephia and an old colored maid spent their days. Old Tnate Sanna would open the door to the rather frightened little messenger and would usher him-or her - into the dark voor-kamer, where the shutters were always closed to keep out the heat and the flies. There we would wait, in trembling but not altogether unpleasant.
She was a tiny little woman to inspire so much veneration. She was always dressed in black, and her dark clothes melted into the shadows of the voor-kamer and made her look smaller than ever. But you felt. The moment she entered. That something vital and strong and somehow indestructible had come in with her, although she moved slowly, and her voice was sweet and soft.
She never embraced us. She would greet us and take out hot little hands in her own beautiful cool one, with blue veins standing out on the back of it, as though the white skin were almost too delicate to contain them.
Tante Sanna would bring in dishes of sweet, sweet, sticky candy, or a great bowl of grapes or peaches, and Great-aunt Stephina would converse gravely about happenings on the farm ,and, more rarely, of the outer world.
When we had finished our sweetmeats or fruit she would accompany us to the stoep, bidding us thank our mother for her gift and sending quaint, old-fashioned messages to her and the Father. Then she would turn and enter the house, closing the door behind, so that it became once more a place of mystery.
As I grew older I found, rather to my surprise, that I had become genuinely fond of my aloof old great-aunt. But to this day I do not know what strange impulse made me take George to see her and to tell her, before I had confided in another living soul, of our engagement. To my astonishment, she was delighted.
"An Englishman,"she exclaimed."But that is splendid, splendid. And you,"she turned to George,"you are making your home in this country? You do not intend to return to England just yet?"
She seemed relieved when she heard that George had bought a farm near our own farm and intended to settle in South Africa. She became quite animated, and chattered away to him.
After that I would often slip away to the little cottage by the mealie lands. Once she was somewhat disappointed on hearing that we had decided to wait for two years before getting married, but when she learned that my father and mother were both pleased with the match she seemed reassured.
Still, she often appeared anxious about my love affair, and would ask questions that seemed to me strange, almost as though she feared that something would happen to destroy my romance. But I was quite unprepared for her outburst when I mentioned that George thought of paying a lightning visit to England before we were married."He must not do it,"she cried."Ina, you must not let him go. Promise me you will prevent him."she was trembling all over. I did what I could to console her, but she looked so tired and pale that I persuaded her to go to her room and rest, promising to return the next day.
When I arrived I found her sitting on the stoep. She looked lonely and pathetic, and for the first time I wondered why no man had ever taken her and looked after her and loved her. Mother had told me that Great-aunt Stephina had been lovely as a young girl, and although no trace of that beauty remained, except perhaps in her brown eyes, yet she looked so small and appealing that any man, one felt, would have wanted to protect her.
She paused, as though she did not quite know how to begin.
Then she seemed to give herself, mentally, a little shake. "You must have wondered ", she said, "why I was so upset at the thought of young George's going to England without you. I am an old woman, and perhaps I have the silly fancies of the old, but I should like to tell you my own love story, and then you can decide whether it is wise for your man to leave you before you are married."
"I was quite a young girl when I first met Richard Weston. He was an Englishman who boarded with the Van Rensburgs on the next farm, four or five miles from us. Richard was not strong. He had a weak chest, and the doctors had sent him to South Africa so that the dry air could cure him. He taught the Van Rensburg children, who were younger than I was, though we often played together, but he did this for pleasure and not because he needed money.
"We loved one another from the first moment we met, though we did not speak of our love until the evening of my eighteenth birthday. All our friends and relatives had come to my party, and in the evening we danced on the big old carpet which we had laid down in the barn. Richard had come with the Van Rensburgs, and we danced together as often as we dared, which was not very often, for my father hated the Uitlanders. Indeed, for a time he had quarreled with Mynheer Van Rensburg for allowing Richard to board with him, but afterwards he got used to the idea, and was always polite to the Englishman, though he never liked him.
"That was the happiest birthday of my life, for while we were resting between dances Richard took me outside into the cool, moonlit night, and there, under the stars ,he told me he loved me and asked me to marry him. Of course I promised I would, for I was too happy to think of what my parents would say, or indeed of anything except Richard was not at our meeting place as he had arranged. I was disappointed but not alarmed, for so many things could happen to either of us to prevent out keeping our tryst. I thought that next time we visited the Van Ransburgs, I should hear what had kept him and we could plan further meetings…
"So when my father asked if I would drive with him to Driefontein I was delighted. But when we reached the homestead and were sitting on the stoep drinking our coffee, we heard that Richard had left quite suddenly and had gone back to England. His father had died, and now he was the heir and must go back to look after his estates.
"I do not remember very much more about that day, except that the sun seemed to have stopped shining and the country no longer looked beautiful and full of promise, but bleak and desolate as it sometimes does in winter or in times of drought. Late that afternoon, Jantje, the little Hottentot herd boy, came up to me and handed me a letter , which he said the English baas had left for me. It was the only love letter I ever received, but it turned all my bitterness and grief into a peacefulness which was the nearest I could get, then, to happiness. I knew Richard still loved me, and somehow, as long as I had his letter, I felt that we could never be really parted, even if he were in England and I had to remain on the farm. I have it yet, and though I am an old, tired woman, it still gives me hope and courage."
"I must have been a wonderful letter, Aunt Stephia,"I said
The old lady came back from her dreams of that far-off romance."Perhaps," she said, hesitating a little, "perhaps, my dear, you would care to read it ?"
"I should love to , Aunt Stephia,"I said gently
She rose at once and tripped into the house as eagerly as a young girl. When she came back she handed me a letter, faded and yellow with age, the edges of the envelope worn and frayed as though it had been much handled. But when I came to open it I found that the seal was unbroken.
"Open it ,open it,"said Great-aunt Stephia, and her voice was shaking
I broke the seal and read.
It was not a love letter in the true sense of the word, but pages of the minutest directions of how"my sweetest Phina"was to elude her father's vigilance, creep down to the drift at night and there meet Jantje with a horse which would take her to Smitsdorp. There she was to go to "my true friend, Henry Wilson",who would give her money and make arrangements for her to follow her lover to Cape Town and from there to England ," where, my love, we can he be married at once. But if, my dearest, you are not sure that you can face lift with me in a land strange to you, then do not take this important step, for I love you too much to wish you the smallest unhappiness. If you do not come, and if I do not hear from you, then I shall know that you could never be happy so far from the people and the country which you love. If, however, you feel you can keep your promise to me, but are of too timid and modest a journey to England unaccompanied, then write to me, and I will, by some means, return to fetch my bride."
I read no further.
"But Aunt Phina!"I gasped. "Why…why…?"
The old lady was watching me with trembling eagerness, her face flushed and her eyes bright with expectation."Read it aloud, my dear,"she said."I want to hear every word of it. There was never anyone I could trust…Uitlanders were hated in my young days…I could not ask anyone."
"But, Auntie, don't you even know what he wrote?"
The old lady looked down, troubled and shy like a child who has unwittingly done wrong.
"No, dear," she said, speaking very low."You see, I never learned to read.
A Silent Love
From the very Begining, the girl's family objected strongly on her dating this guy. Saying that it has got to do with family background & that the girl will have to suffer for the rest of her life if she were to be with him.
Due to family's pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Though the girl love the guy deeply, but she always ask him: "How deep is your love for me?"
As the guy is not good with his words, this often cause the girl to be very upset. With that & the family's pressure, the girl often vent her anger on him. As for him, he only endure it in silence.
After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated & decided to further his studies in overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the girl: "I'm not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I'll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?"
The girl agreed, & with the guy's determination, the family finally gave in & agreed to let them get married. So before he leave, they got engaged.
The girl went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails & phone calls. Though it's hard, but both never thought of giving up.
One day, while the girl was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realised that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. She has lost her voice......
The doctors says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her voice. Listening to her parents' comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down.
During the stay in hospital, besides silence cry,.....it's still just silence cry that companied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart everytime it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know. & not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.
With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions & millions of reply, and countless of phonecalls,.. all the girl could do, besides crying, is still crying....
The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything & be happy.
With a new environment, the girl learn sign language & started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her friend came & told her that he's back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn't anymore news of him.
A year has passed & her friend came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy's wedding. The girl was shattered. When she open the letter, she saw her name in it instead.
When she was about to ask her friend what's going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her. He used sign language telling her "I've spent a year's time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I've not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You. With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger. The girl finally smiled.
Due to family's pressure, the couple quarrel very often. Though the girl love the guy deeply, but she always ask him: "How deep is your love for me?"
As the guy is not good with his words, this often cause the girl to be very upset. With that & the family's pressure, the girl often vent her anger on him. As for him, he only endure it in silence.
After a couple of years, the guy finally graduated & decided to further his studies in overseas. Before leaving, he proposed to the girl: "I'm not very good with words. But all I know is that I love you. If you allow me, I will take care of you for the rest of my life. As for your family, I'll try my best to talk them round. Will you marry me?"
The girl agreed, & with the guy's determination, the family finally gave in & agreed to let them get married. So before he leave, they got engaged.
The girl went out to the working society, whereas the guy was overseas, continuing his studies. They sent their love through emails & phone calls. Though it's hard, but both never thought of giving up.
One day, while the girl was on her way to work, she was knocked down by a car that lost control. When she woke up, she saw her parents beside her bed. She realised that she was badly injured. Seeing her mum crying, she wanted to comfort her. But she realized that all that could come out of her mouth was just a sigh. She has lost her voice......
The doctors says that the impact on her brain has caused her to lose her voice. Listening to her parents' comfort, but with nothing coming out from her, she broke down.
During the stay in hospital, besides silence cry,.....it's still just silence cry that companied her. Upon reaching home, everything seems to be the same. Except for the ringing tone of the phone. Which pierced into her heart everytime it rang. She does not wish to let the guy know. & not wanting to be a burden to him, she wrote a letter to him saying that she does not wish to wait any longer.
With that, she sent the ring back to him. In return, the guy sent millions & millions of reply, and countless of phonecalls,.. all the girl could do, besides crying, is still crying....
The parents decided to move away, hoping that she could eventually forget everything & be happy.
With a new environment, the girl learn sign language & started a new life. Telling herself everyday that she must forget the guy. One day, her friend came & told her that he's back. She asked her friend not to let him know what happened to her. Since then, there wasn't anymore news of him.
A year has passed & her friend came with an envelope, containing an invitation card for the guy's wedding. The girl was shattered. When she open the letter, she saw her name in it instead.
When she was about to ask her friend what's going on, she saw the guy standing in front of her. He used sign language telling her "I've spent a year's time to learn sign language. Just to let you know that I've not forgotten our promise. Let me have the chance to be your voice. I Love You. With that, he slipped the ring back into her finger. The girl finally smiled.
Text Pal
My cellphone's beeping sound woke me up one night. Used to receiving important messages only, I grabbed my cell and sleepily pushed the keys and read the message.
"Hi there! Care 2 b my txtmate?"
Not knowing who the sender was, I deleted the message right away and placed the phone on my bedside table, I tried to go back to sleep.
I had just closed my eyes when I heard the message tone again.
"Hi there, again! Care 2 b my txtmate?" again, the message said.
"Who the hell could this be asking for txtmate at the wee hours of the night?" I asked myself.
Again, without bothering to reply I deleted the message.
I was never a 'textmaniac' - someone who enjoys texting anyone and everyone even at the wee hours of night, not to mention during the day. My parents, who were always out of the country forced me to own a cellphone. They told me that having one was more convenient - they could monitor me even if they're miles away.
I wanted to turn the unit off, but since my mother was fond of calling me at night, just to check if I was safe at home, I decided not to.
Just as I was to close my eyes and return to my dreamless sleep, the phone beeped again.
Same number...Such determination!
"Ply reply 2 dis msg & b an angel & save me frm dis abyss of emptiness!!!"
I never knew why, but the message struck me. I got up and pushed the keys... I just realized I was replying to the message.
"Im not an angel, n f u want som1 2 save u, m not superman... I'm just a simple prson who u wake up at dis r of my nyt!!! Nway, do I know u?" I typed.
Seconds later came the reply.
"Nope. U don't know dis lonely soul. Nor does she know u. But I want 2 b ur frnd. I'm Mikaella Cervantes. U?"
"Just call me Julius. How'd u get my no.?" I sent back.
"Hi Julius, nice 2 meet u. Just shuffled the last two digits of mine," she replied.
That was the first and maybe the last time I met someone over the cellphone.
We exchanged messages and learned so much about each other that night. We only said goodbye when my alarm clock rang at 5:00 AM! I had to prepare for school!
And that was also how it all started. A day would not pass without it loving and thoughtful messages from her. It was only then I had learned to appreciate text messages and become eager and excited everytime my phone beeped, hoping it would be her.
Mikaella brought out something about me that I never knew I had; I realized I could also be a romantic person... even if it's just through text messaging.
"Keep me as a frnd & I will keep u in my heart. Lock it up & throw away d key so dat no1 can evr tke u away from me..."
One day, she sent this message to me.
I replied: 'In life, we seldom find a true prson & f u evr find 1, hold on & nvr let go... value dat prson coz it's lyf's gift worth keeping & holdin on..."
I never knew why, but her response sent shivers to my spine, " Value d people hu hav touched ur life bcoz u will never know just wen dey will walk out of ur lyf & nvr come back again."
I couldn't understand what I felt that moment, but one thing I was sure though... I could not go on a day without a single word from her. I'd become used to having her, eventhough we had not met personally. But truly, she already occupied a space, a large one, in fact in my life.
I texted her back. "Dont come close f l8r ull jst pass by; don't touch me f l8r ull jst let me cry; dont luv me f l8r ull jst leave me and won't stay..."
I didn't know why I sent her that message, but somehow I felt, every word came from my heart. In the short span of time we were sending messages to each other, I knew, I was starting to keep her in my heart.
I called her once. The voice on the other end was like an angel's. Soft, kind, full of love. Yet, there was something in it I couldn't define. We only talked for a few minutes. Before she hung up, she told me not to call again. According to her, it would be better if we would just text each other.
But the voice kept ringing, not only in my head, but in my heart, I'd long to hear it once more. I tried to call her again, but she never answered the phone. She just kept on sending messages and quotations, which I copied in a little notebook. Hopeless romantic? I didn't know. All I could say was that all the messages she sent me were wonderful, they came from the heart and cut through the heart.
"Though we r miles apart, u r always n my heart. I close my eyes & der u r. Even f I'll see u never, I'll always b hir 2 care 4 u, far longer dan 4ever..."
One December night, she sent me this message. By that time we had been exchanging messages for more than a month. God knew how happy I was. She was right. Although we had not seen each other, what we felt was enough to make us both realize what was keeping us together.
I sent her another message, "Loving u secretly is a hard thing 4 me 2 do,hoping, wondring that u will feel d same way 2, but I can't read r mind f u luv me 2. But whatever it is, I'll still be loving u."
"How I wish I cud really tell u how much u mean 2 me, but m afraid 2 love, scared 2 get hurt... I hope dat u will wait 4 me & pray dat u will not get tired of loving me...=)" was her reply.
And then I replied again. " The reason y I met u is bcoz of destiny but f destiny will suggest dat I'll live w/o u, den, I'll lie not by destiny but of free will."
Whenever I asked her when we would meet personally, she always answered, "Soon...soon, love...soon."
Not seeing each other did not lessen, even a bit, what I felt for her...rather, it even grew deeper and stronger each day. And I was sure, she felt the same way, too. Love messages continued to flow through our lines, between our hearts, which made us go on each day with the thought that sooner, we would see each other, face to face, heart to heart.
Just a few days before Christmas. She stopped sending messages. At first I just though she had ran out of prepaid.
But there was something that kept bothering me... I couldn't understand what was it, but it made me fell nervous. I tried to call her but she wouldn't answer. Nevertheless, I continued sending messages.
Suddenly one night, just three days before our Lord's birthday. I heard my phone's message tone again... at last!It was from her!
"Oftentyms we say gudbye 2 d 1 we luv w/o wanting 2. Though dat doesn't mean dat we stopped loving dem or we stopped 2 care. Sometyms, GOODBYE is a painful way 2 say I LOVE YOU."
I was dumfounded. I didn't know what to think of. What did she mean? I texted her back, searching for answers, but found nothing. I called her but she would not answer.
For the first time in my life, I felt so miserable...desperate... empty. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lose her. I had learned to love her. And I wanted to be with her forever.
The following days I felt nothing but emptiness. It seemed that Mikaella took the life out of me. I missed her so much...her messages...The tones that would tell me she'd sent another loving message. Nothing around me could feel the emptiness I felt.
Tut...tut...tut...tut...tut...just a day before Christmas, my cell beeped again. It was her!
"Meet me at d café, 10 AM 2day," I read aloud, making sure the message was true, then I jumped with joy upon hearing from her again. Hurriedly, I got myself ready and I went to the mall. I knew it was still early, but I wanted to be there before she arrived.
I arrived at the meeting place ten minutes earlier. I was surprised to see her already there, smiling at me. She was very beautiful, Black, deep-set eyes that spoke a thousand words; small, kissable lips; a nose perfectly chiseled and long black hair - everything in her was beautiful. And yes, her eyes radiated kindness and love...but there was a flicker of something in them...sadness?
"Hi, Julius," said the angelic voice I had been dreaming of each night. The voice that I had waited to hear for so long. "Please sit down." "I am very pleased to meet you, Mikaella," I said, as I took my seat and gave the roses I brought for her.
"Thanks, Julius," she smiled, obviously pleased with the roses. I knew she loved pink roses.
"You are always welcome, Love" "Julius, I can't stay," she said, sadness in her voice, or was it tears? "I really must go."
"But we just met, Mikaella. Can't we talk a little longer?" I asked, pleadingly.
"I can't really. I just came here to see you and thank you for the time you shared with me. Thank you for everything, Julius. I will never forget you...you will always be here in my heart."
She was looking at me straight into the eyes, and I could really feel the sadness in her voice and I swear, there was something in her voice and I swear, there was something in those lovely yet lonely eyes...
She got up and smiled at me, lovingly.
"Tomorrow morning, please come and visit me," he said and gave me a piece of white linen paper.
I read what was written and when I looked up, she was gone. The following day, Christmas, I woke up early and excitedly readied myself,thinking of her. I hurriedly went to flower shop and bought a dozen pink roses - for Mikaella.
They lived in an exclusive subdivision.
Upon reaching their house, I told the guard who I was and that I was looking for Mikaella.
The guard stared at me, sadness and amazement in his eyes and told me to wait as he called the owner of the house. As I looked at him while he was going inside the house, only then I noticed that the house was brightly lit.
A woman went out and walked towards me, smiling sadly.
"Hi, I'm Maria, Mikaella's mother. Please come inside, Julius." While we were walking towards the mansion, she explained to me why she knew me very well - Mikaella had always been talking about her friend, Julius. I hardly understood what she was saying. I was busy thinking why Mikaella's mother was crying while talking to me.
As we came near the great hall of the house, it dawned on me that there was a wake inside, Maybe, a relative passed away, I thought. But deep in my heart, I was trembling and afraid.
As we entered the hall where so many people were silently mourning while others were praying, shaking, I asked her mother. "Where is Mikaella?"
She held my hand and silently, led me to the coffin which was surrounded by flowers - pink roses, nothing but pinkroses.
No words could explain how I felt when I gazed at the coffin and saw who was lying there. The same beautiful girl I met...
A man came beside me, I knew he was Mika's father.
"We are so glad you came, Julius. Mika talked of you all the time. She even asked that her phone be buried with her.
She said that in that way, you could still send her messages and you would always be with her."
I couldn't believe everything... My mind was in limbo.
"But how can this be? We just saw each other yesterday."
"That can't possibly be. She passed away three days ago. She had been suffering from a heart disease since she was a child," said her father.
"But..." I couldn't find the words to say.
"She told us not to bother reaching you, "her mother said, still in tears," she said you will come, and here you are.
Pain and bitterness overwhelmed me. I cried silently beside her, staring at her lovely face, memorizing every line of my friend's face, a face I knew I would never forget while I was still alive.
After the internment that afternoon, I went to the chapel she had
told me she went everyday.
Sitting there praying and crying to God, I held my phone and typed: "U taught me how 2 care; u taught me how 2 b kind; u shwd me how 2 lyk som; u shwd me how 2 luv; but ders 1 thing didnt teach me & it hurts mor - u didnt teach me how 2 let go. I LOVE YOU"
I sent the message, and though I knew she wouldn't be able to hold her CP again, I knew in my heart she would get my message. I never expected a reply, yet as my phone beeped again,felt a shiver down my spine. The sender's number did not appear on the screen, and tears rolled down my cheeks as I read the message.
"Let go of d hand of d person u love, but dont let go of God's hand. 4 if u hold 2 his hand. He may b holding d person u love n d ader hand 2 let u hold each other again."
"I will never forget you, Mikaella and will never let go..." I vowed to her and to myself as I left the church.
"Hi there! Care 2 b my txtmate?"
Not knowing who the sender was, I deleted the message right away and placed the phone on my bedside table, I tried to go back to sleep.
I had just closed my eyes when I heard the message tone again.
"Hi there, again! Care 2 b my txtmate?" again, the message said.
"Who the hell could this be asking for txtmate at the wee hours of the night?" I asked myself.
Again, without bothering to reply I deleted the message.
I was never a 'textmaniac' - someone who enjoys texting anyone and everyone even at the wee hours of night, not to mention during the day. My parents, who were always out of the country forced me to own a cellphone. They told me that having one was more convenient - they could monitor me even if they're miles away.
I wanted to turn the unit off, but since my mother was fond of calling me at night, just to check if I was safe at home, I decided not to.
Just as I was to close my eyes and return to my dreamless sleep, the phone beeped again.
Same number...Such determination!
"Ply reply 2 dis msg & b an angel & save me frm dis abyss of emptiness!!!"
I never knew why, but the message struck me. I got up and pushed the keys... I just realized I was replying to the message.
"Im not an angel, n f u want som1 2 save u, m not superman... I'm just a simple prson who u wake up at dis r of my nyt!!! Nway, do I know u?" I typed.
Seconds later came the reply.
"Nope. U don't know dis lonely soul. Nor does she know u. But I want 2 b ur frnd. I'm Mikaella Cervantes. U?"
"Just call me Julius. How'd u get my no.?" I sent back.
"Hi Julius, nice 2 meet u. Just shuffled the last two digits of mine," she replied.
That was the first and maybe the last time I met someone over the cellphone.
We exchanged messages and learned so much about each other that night. We only said goodbye when my alarm clock rang at 5:00 AM! I had to prepare for school!
And that was also how it all started. A day would not pass without it loving and thoughtful messages from her. It was only then I had learned to appreciate text messages and become eager and excited everytime my phone beeped, hoping it would be her.
Mikaella brought out something about me that I never knew I had; I realized I could also be a romantic person... even if it's just through text messaging.
"Keep me as a frnd & I will keep u in my heart. Lock it up & throw away d key so dat no1 can evr tke u away from me..."
One day, she sent this message to me.
I replied: 'In life, we seldom find a true prson & f u evr find 1, hold on & nvr let go... value dat prson coz it's lyf's gift worth keeping & holdin on..."
I never knew why, but her response sent shivers to my spine, " Value d people hu hav touched ur life bcoz u will never know just wen dey will walk out of ur lyf & nvr come back again."
I couldn't understand what I felt that moment, but one thing I was sure though... I could not go on a day without a single word from her. I'd become used to having her, eventhough we had not met personally. But truly, she already occupied a space, a large one, in fact in my life.
I texted her back. "Dont come close f l8r ull jst pass by; don't touch me f l8r ull jst let me cry; dont luv me f l8r ull jst leave me and won't stay..."
I didn't know why I sent her that message, but somehow I felt, every word came from my heart. In the short span of time we were sending messages to each other, I knew, I was starting to keep her in my heart.
I called her once. The voice on the other end was like an angel's. Soft, kind, full of love. Yet, there was something in it I couldn't define. We only talked for a few minutes. Before she hung up, she told me not to call again. According to her, it would be better if we would just text each other.
But the voice kept ringing, not only in my head, but in my heart, I'd long to hear it once more. I tried to call her again, but she never answered the phone. She just kept on sending messages and quotations, which I copied in a little notebook. Hopeless romantic? I didn't know. All I could say was that all the messages she sent me were wonderful, they came from the heart and cut through the heart.
"Though we r miles apart, u r always n my heart. I close my eyes & der u r. Even f I'll see u never, I'll always b hir 2 care 4 u, far longer dan 4ever..."
One December night, she sent me this message. By that time we had been exchanging messages for more than a month. God knew how happy I was. She was right. Although we had not seen each other, what we felt was enough to make us both realize what was keeping us together.
I sent her another message, "Loving u secretly is a hard thing 4 me 2 do,hoping, wondring that u will feel d same way 2, but I can't read r mind f u luv me 2. But whatever it is, I'll still be loving u."
"How I wish I cud really tell u how much u mean 2 me, but m afraid 2 love, scared 2 get hurt... I hope dat u will wait 4 me & pray dat u will not get tired of loving me...=)" was her reply.
And then I replied again. " The reason y I met u is bcoz of destiny but f destiny will suggest dat I'll live w/o u, den, I'll lie not by destiny but of free will."
Whenever I asked her when we would meet personally, she always answered, "Soon...soon, love...soon."
Not seeing each other did not lessen, even a bit, what I felt for her...rather, it even grew deeper and stronger each day. And I was sure, she felt the same way, too. Love messages continued to flow through our lines, between our hearts, which made us go on each day with the thought that sooner, we would see each other, face to face, heart to heart.
Just a few days before Christmas. She stopped sending messages. At first I just though she had ran out of prepaid.
But there was something that kept bothering me... I couldn't understand what was it, but it made me fell nervous. I tried to call her but she wouldn't answer. Nevertheless, I continued sending messages.
Suddenly one night, just three days before our Lord's birthday. I heard my phone's message tone again... at last!It was from her!
"Oftentyms we say gudbye 2 d 1 we luv w/o wanting 2. Though dat doesn't mean dat we stopped loving dem or we stopped 2 care. Sometyms, GOODBYE is a painful way 2 say I LOVE YOU."
I was dumfounded. I didn't know what to think of. What did she mean? I texted her back, searching for answers, but found nothing. I called her but she would not answer.
For the first time in my life, I felt so miserable...desperate... empty. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lose her. I had learned to love her. And I wanted to be with her forever.
The following days I felt nothing but emptiness. It seemed that Mikaella took the life out of me. I missed her so much...her messages...The tones that would tell me she'd sent another loving message. Nothing around me could feel the emptiness I felt.
Tut...tut...tut...tut...tut...just a day before Christmas, my cell beeped again. It was her!
"Meet me at d café, 10 AM 2day," I read aloud, making sure the message was true, then I jumped with joy upon hearing from her again. Hurriedly, I got myself ready and I went to the mall. I knew it was still early, but I wanted to be there before she arrived.
I arrived at the meeting place ten minutes earlier. I was surprised to see her already there, smiling at me. She was very beautiful, Black, deep-set eyes that spoke a thousand words; small, kissable lips; a nose perfectly chiseled and long black hair - everything in her was beautiful. And yes, her eyes radiated kindness and love...but there was a flicker of something in them...sadness?
"Hi, Julius," said the angelic voice I had been dreaming of each night. The voice that I had waited to hear for so long. "Please sit down." "I am very pleased to meet you, Mikaella," I said, as I took my seat and gave the roses I brought for her.
"Thanks, Julius," she smiled, obviously pleased with the roses. I knew she loved pink roses.
"You are always welcome, Love" "Julius, I can't stay," she said, sadness in her voice, or was it tears? "I really must go."
"But we just met, Mikaella. Can't we talk a little longer?" I asked, pleadingly.
"I can't really. I just came here to see you and thank you for the time you shared with me. Thank you for everything, Julius. I will never forget you...you will always be here in my heart."
She was looking at me straight into the eyes, and I could really feel the sadness in her voice and I swear, there was something in her voice and I swear, there was something in those lovely yet lonely eyes...
She got up and smiled at me, lovingly.
"Tomorrow morning, please come and visit me," he said and gave me a piece of white linen paper.
I read what was written and when I looked up, she was gone. The following day, Christmas, I woke up early and excitedly readied myself,thinking of her. I hurriedly went to flower shop and bought a dozen pink roses - for Mikaella.
They lived in an exclusive subdivision.
Upon reaching their house, I told the guard who I was and that I was looking for Mikaella.
The guard stared at me, sadness and amazement in his eyes and told me to wait as he called the owner of the house. As I looked at him while he was going inside the house, only then I noticed that the house was brightly lit.
A woman went out and walked towards me, smiling sadly.
"Hi, I'm Maria, Mikaella's mother. Please come inside, Julius." While we were walking towards the mansion, she explained to me why she knew me very well - Mikaella had always been talking about her friend, Julius. I hardly understood what she was saying. I was busy thinking why Mikaella's mother was crying while talking to me.
As we came near the great hall of the house, it dawned on me that there was a wake inside, Maybe, a relative passed away, I thought. But deep in my heart, I was trembling and afraid.
As we entered the hall where so many people were silently mourning while others were praying, shaking, I asked her mother. "Where is Mikaella?"
She held my hand and silently, led me to the coffin which was surrounded by flowers - pink roses, nothing but pinkroses.
No words could explain how I felt when I gazed at the coffin and saw who was lying there. The same beautiful girl I met...
A man came beside me, I knew he was Mika's father.
"We are so glad you came, Julius. Mika talked of you all the time. She even asked that her phone be buried with her.
She said that in that way, you could still send her messages and you would always be with her."
I couldn't believe everything... My mind was in limbo.
"But how can this be? We just saw each other yesterday."
"That can't possibly be. She passed away three days ago. She had been suffering from a heart disease since she was a child," said her father.
"But..." I couldn't find the words to say.
"She told us not to bother reaching you, "her mother said, still in tears," she said you will come, and here you are.
Pain and bitterness overwhelmed me. I cried silently beside her, staring at her lovely face, memorizing every line of my friend's face, a face I knew I would never forget while I was still alive.
After the internment that afternoon, I went to the chapel she had
told me she went everyday.
Sitting there praying and crying to God, I held my phone and typed: "U taught me how 2 care; u taught me how 2 b kind; u shwd me how 2 lyk som; u shwd me how 2 luv; but ders 1 thing didnt teach me & it hurts mor - u didnt teach me how 2 let go. I LOVE YOU"
I sent the message, and though I knew she wouldn't be able to hold her CP again, I knew in my heart she would get my message. I never expected a reply, yet as my phone beeped again,felt a shiver down my spine. The sender's number did not appear on the screen, and tears rolled down my cheeks as I read the message.
"Let go of d hand of d person u love, but dont let go of God's hand. 4 if u hold 2 his hand. He may b holding d person u love n d ader hand 2 let u hold each other again."
"I will never forget you, Mikaella and will never let go..." I vowed to her and to myself as I left the church.
A Boy's Love Part
A good reminder: "Take time to appreciate what you have now." --Dont miss reading this one
On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to go to the supermarket to buy the
remaining of the gift I didn't manage to buy earlier.
When I saw all the people there, I started to complain tomyself,"It is going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go.
Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year.How I wish I could just lie down, go to sleep and only wake up after it..."
Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to curse the prices, wondering if after all kids really pla ywith such expensive toys.
While looking in the toy section, I noticed a small boy of about 5 years old, pressing a doll against his chest. He kept on touching the hair of the doll and looked so sad. I wondered who was this doll for. Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him, "Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?"
The old lady replied, "You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear."
Then she asked him to stay here for 5 minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.
Finally, I started to walk toward him and I asked him who did he want to give this doll to.
"It is the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her."
I replied to him that may be Santa Claus will bring it to her, after all, and not to worry. But he replied to me sadly.
"No, Santa Claus can not bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can give it to her when she goes there."
His eyes were so sad while saying this.
"My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mummy will also go to see God very soon, so I thought that she could bring the doll with her to give it to my sister."
My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, "I told daddy to tell mummy not to go yet. I asked him to wait until I come back from the supermarket."
Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me, "I also want mummy to take this photo with her so that she will not forget me."
I love my mummy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister."
Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.I quickly reached
for my wallet and took a few notes and said to the boy, "What if we checked
again, just in case if you have enough money?"
"Ok," he said. "I hope that I have enough."
I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it.
There was enough for the doll, and even some spare money.
The little boy said, "Thank you God for giving me enough money."
Then he looked at me and added,
"I asked yesterday before I slept for God to
make sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mummy can give it to my sister. He heard me."
"I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mummy, but I didn't dare to ask God too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and the white rose."
"You know, my mummy loves white rose."
A few minutes later, the old lady came again and I left with my trolley. I
finished my shopping in a totally
different state from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my
mind.
Then I remembered a local newspaper article 2 days ago, which mentioned of a drunk man in a truck who hit a car where there was one young lady and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able to get out of the coma.
Was this the family of the little boy?
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young lady had passed away.I couldn't stop myself and went to buy a bunch of white roses and I went to the mortuary where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wish before burial.
She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rosein her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest. I left the place crying, feeling that my life had been changed forever. The love that this little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to that day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk man had taken all this away from him.
On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to go to the supermarket to buy the
remaining of the gift I didn't manage to buy earlier.
When I saw all the people there, I started to complain tomyself,"It is going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go.
Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year.How I wish I could just lie down, go to sleep and only wake up after it..."
Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to curse the prices, wondering if after all kids really pla ywith such expensive toys.
While looking in the toy section, I noticed a small boy of about 5 years old, pressing a doll against his chest. He kept on touching the hair of the doll and looked so sad. I wondered who was this doll for. Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him, "Granny, are you sure I don't have enough money?"
The old lady replied, "You know that you don't have enough money to buy this doll, my dear."
Then she asked him to stay here for 5 minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.
Finally, I started to walk toward him and I asked him who did he want to give this doll to.
"It is the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her."
I replied to him that may be Santa Claus will bring it to her, after all, and not to worry. But he replied to me sadly.
"No, Santa Claus can not bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can give it to her when she goes there."
His eyes were so sad while saying this.
"My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mummy will also go to see God very soon, so I thought that she could bring the doll with her to give it to my sister."
My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, "I told daddy to tell mummy not to go yet. I asked him to wait until I come back from the supermarket."
Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me, "I also want mummy to take this photo with her so that she will not forget me."
I love my mummy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister."
Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.I quickly reached
for my wallet and took a few notes and said to the boy, "What if we checked
again, just in case if you have enough money?"
"Ok," he said. "I hope that I have enough."
I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it.
There was enough for the doll, and even some spare money.
The little boy said, "Thank you God for giving me enough money."
Then he looked at me and added,
"I asked yesterday before I slept for God to
make sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mummy can give it to my sister. He heard me."
"I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mummy, but I didn't dare to ask God too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and the white rose."
"You know, my mummy loves white rose."
A few minutes later, the old lady came again and I left with my trolley. I
finished my shopping in a totally
different state from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my
mind.
Then I remembered a local newspaper article 2 days ago, which mentioned of a drunk man in a truck who hit a car where there was one young lady and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able to get out of the coma.
Was this the family of the little boy?
Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young lady had passed away.I couldn't stop myself and went to buy a bunch of white roses and I went to the mortuary where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wish before burial.
She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rosein her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest. I left the place crying, feeling that my life had been changed forever. The love that this little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to that day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk man had taken all this away from him.
Only Love Part
It's a cold February night. People are bustling through the streets, either pulling up their coat collars or wrapping scarves around their necks, trying to stay warm.
It's so cold today.I'm standing at my window, looking at the people moving like little dots. Standing in a heated room, I'm beginning to pity those people. Why don't they go home? Do they plan on wandering until morning?
"Almost time to go home! My boyfriend must be going crazy." One of the nurses breathe a sign of relief. "Still needs to work overtime on Valentine's Day. It's so unfair!"
"You are fortunate." Another nurse says. "Some people don't have anyone waiting for them."
"You mean Dr. Shu?"
Like Sherlock Holmes, my ears perk up when I hear my name.
"Do you remember how she lost control on this day last year?"
"Of course I do." A nurse shudders. "I've never seen Dr. Shu like that. Crying and yelling, like she was crazy."
They are talking about how I was last year. They are correct. I was out of control, like they said.
"You can't blame Dr. Shu. If my boyfriend died in front of my eyes, I would probably go crazy as well."
"Keep it down. She hasn't left work yet. She might hear you."
The two nurses are too late. I heard the entire conversation through the canvas wall.
"Dr. Shu, what are you doing standing here?"
Just as I was deciding whether or not to reveal myself, another nurse exposed me. I awkwardly step out. The 2 nurses who discussed me start to blush. Their faces became redder than the bow on Valentine's Day chocolates.
"I'm waiting to go home." I pretend that I didn't hear anything.
"Dr. Shu, you must have gotten too involved in your work. It's already past time to go home. See you tomorrow. Happy Valentine's Day!" She waves goodbye.
"Happy Valentine's Day." I wave back and watch the 2 nurses hurry away.
That's fine. I was ready to go home anyway. Even though no lover is waiting
for me, at least there's a lazy cat waiting for me to feed.
After I come home, the first thing I do is feed the cat. I forgot when I first had the cat. Probably since last year's Valentine's Day. At that time, I was like an abandoned cat, with eyes filled with despair. Cats don't cry, I do. That's the only difference.
"Better drink all the milk or I'll skin you." I threatened the cat. Her name is Christine, my least favorite English name. I don't know why I named the cat Christine. Christine meowed once to let me know she heard me, but her eyes are complaining about my severity. Her eyes remind me of someone I used to know, standing in front of me with eyes of rebellions.
An year ago today, I had lunch with my boyfriend and took the opportunity to complain to him.
"Today is Valentine's Day. Why didn't you give me any flowers?"
He raised his eyebrow. "Why should I give you flowers? You are not my anyone."
"Then... you should at least give me a card!" I pouted my lips, hurt by his tone.
"I know, I know. After lunch, I'll send you an e-card."
E-card. That sounds so impersonal, but that's the way he is. "You have to e-mail it to me. I'll be waiting." I excitedly smiled and planned to sneak home after lunch to check e-mail. Even though he wouldn't use any romantic words, I still looked forward to the card.
"I can't stand you women. Why do you make such a big deal out of Valentine's Day??" He grumbled while eating his food. His comment induced me to fight with him again.
"You are not romantic at all!! Don't you watch any Japanese drama?"
"Japanese drama? I only watch Discovery Channel."
"Your life is so boring." I made a face at him. "One recent drama was really good. You should have watched it."
"What's that drama called?" He didn't believe in the love portrayed in TV and movies. He always thought they were lies.
"It's called 'Story of A Century'." I gladly answered.
"What kind of trashy plot did it have?"
"What do you mean trash?? Show some respect!" I was so angry. "That drama was very touching, and the theme song was beautiful as well. It's called 'Only Love', performed by Nana Mouskouri." I wonder if he knew who Nana was.
"Nana, I know her. A Greek singer with really expensive albums."
"Her voice is worth it." Even though I secretly agreed with him, I couldn't bring myself to admit it.
"Whatever." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give you 5 minutes to tell me the plot. After that, I'm leaving."
I tried hard to explain 6 hours worth of story in just 5 minutes. The drama portrayed the love stories of 3 generations of women spanning 100 years, from 1901 to 2000. Each generation was portrayed by the same actress. The story was tear-jerking.
"What's so touching about it?" He asked, after listening to the story.
"Don't you think each generation's story is wonderful? If I have such great screen writing ability, I wouldn't be a doctor anymore. I would become a screenwriter."
"If you become a screenwriter, I bet no one would watch the show. The TV station can go out of business." He quickly interjected.
"I'm going back to work. Hurry and send me the card!" I was so mad that I went home immediately, not even finishing my coffee.
As soon as I walked in my door, I turned on my computer and go online.
Staring at the empty in-box, I began to reminisce about how we met. Maybe no one will believe me, but my boyfriend and I were actually neighbors. Our homes were only 1 wall away. Ever since we were kids, we liked to fight with each other all day long. I still remember when I moved to the country that year. Used to the city life, I couldn't get used to the simple life in the country. After school, I would just go home and do nothing. Whenever that happened, he would always come over to tease me.
"Why are you staring off into space??" He loved to pull on my hair. "You're so ugly when you're doing nothing. But you're also not pretty when you smile." In other words, I'm really ugly.
"You're the one who's ugly!" I pull back my hair. "If you think I'm so ugly, why do you visit me??"
"Can't help it. My home is right next to your home." He argued.
"Then I'll move!" The next day, I drew a line in the ground using some white chalk. A line that I forbid him to cross.
That year, we were both in the 5th grade. We couldn't stand each other and hoped the other would move away. But 5 years passed, and neither of us moved. Not only that, we got into the same high school and into the same class.
"You're that infamous couple." All the students and teachers in the school would say whenever they saw us.
"We're not!" I always tried to explain. "We're only neighbors." At that time, I hated my parents for making us live next to him.
"My standard is not that low." He would say. "Who wants her to be a girlfriend?? It's not like I don't have eyes."
"Yes, I know your eyes are on top of your head." I really disliked him. "Better than having eyes on the bottom of my head like you." He implied that I couldn't judge guys. At that time, I had a crush on a senior.
I didn't think that his sarcasm had a hidden meaning. After a while, I found out that the senior student had lots of girlfriends. When I cried about it, he silently passed me a handkerchief and awkwardly held me in his arms.
"I told you he wasn't any good." He roughly comforted me. I cried in his arms the whole night, and began to see him in a different way. Things began to change between us. We still fought all the time, but he started to look at me differently. And I blushed and my heart beat faster when he was near. We both knew: we fell in love with each other.
Even with this knowledge, neither of us said anything. Even though we would
not be able to resist and kissed each other constantly. Even though we cared about each other's every moves. Both of us refused to admit our love.
Time flew by quickly, and it was time to face separation. I chose to study medicine, and he chose physics. Yet we still couldn't separate from each other. Our parents worried that we didn't know anyone in Taipei, so they forced us to live in the same apartment building. Once again, we became neighbors. We still fought, but sometimes we fought into the bedroom. Alright, we became lovers, but we still wouldn't say we loved each other. We didn't even spend Valentine's Day together until he saw me share dinner with a man one Valentine's Day. That night, he waited for me in front of my door and said that he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day from then on. I have to say that he was very arrogant. But I nodded and accepted his request. Since then, we spent every Valentine's Day together. After graduation, I became an intern. He started a small computer company with some friends and became a programmer. We were busy with our own lives and had no time for a relationship. Three years later, I became a doctor, and his business began to boom. We separately moved to bigger
apartments and stopped being neighbors. On the surface, we left each other. In reality, we were still together. We spent every Valentine's Day together but each year became more dreary than the next because he never told me he loved me even with all my hints.
Facing the empty in-box, I suddenly grew very angry. He wouldn't say it and wouldn't send me a card. What did he mean? Who did he think I was? I called his cell phone.
"Hello." He picked up the phone.
"I didn't receive the card." I immediately showed my displeasure.
"You didn't receive it?" He seemed really busy. "But I sent it."
He was really busy but I didn't care. "I didn't receive it. Send it again."
"Okay, I'll send you 100 times. Is that good enough??" He said with impatience. His tone further infuriated me. Is that how lovers speak to each other?
"Don't bother sending it to me. And you don't have to pick me up tonight.
I'll eat dinner by myself."
"Don't be childish, ok? I'm really busy."
"I AM childish!" I hung up the phone and tears rolled down my cheeks.
Childish?? Why didn't he consider the situation? We've gone out for so many years and spent countless Valentine's Day together. I never received any flowers nor cards from him. Now, I just want a little e-card. Is that too much to ask for??
I unplugged the phone from the wall and turned off my cell phone. I didn't want to hear his explanations. After I returned to the hospital, I instructed the receptionist not to forward me any phone calls. I wanted to concentrate on work.
Because there were so many emergencies today, I was sweating 1 hour later and forgot about our argument.
"Dr. Shu, please take a look at that patient."
As I was collecting my equipment, the shrill sound of an ambulance sounded outside the ER. When I stepped out the door, the emergency medics hurriedly wheeled in a gurney.
"What happened to him?" I asked the 1st medic. Everyone else were trying to help put the patient on the gurney. He was covered with blood.
"Car accident." The medic replied. "Very serious. He may die."
I nodded and ran to the operating room with them. When I arrived, the nurses told me that the man had already stopped breathing and also his heartbeat also stopped
"Prepare for shock." I calmly instructed the nurses. Saving people is our duty. We can't lose our calm.
But when I saw who laid on the operating table, I lost my calm. That person was my boyfriend!
"No..." I stood in shock. "NO!!!" I grabbed the paddles and continuously shocked his body. His body bounced up and down from the shocks. The scared nurses went to find another doctor, to tell him that I was crazy.
I didn't know if I was crazy or not. I just wanted to save my lover. Even though we fought all the time. Even though he never showed me his love. I still wanted to save him. He still owed me a card. He couldn't die! I threw away the paddles and began to press on his heart. I pressed with all my strength, hoping it would revive him, but he didn't wake up. He didn't even say "It hurts". He just laid there with his eyes closed, punishing me with his silence.
Dr. Jian angrily pushed me away. By that time, I couldn't see clearly anymore. I cried. I wailed. I bowled until no sounds could come out of my mouth.
"It's too late, Dr. Shu. He's already dead. I'm sorry." Dr. Jian patted me on the shoulder. They knew each other and ate together once. I introduced them.
"He can't die." I shook my head. "He can't die!!" I struggled to run to him.
"Dr. Shu, control yourself!" Dr. Jian slapped me. "I understand what you're going through, but you're a doctor."
Yes, I'm a doctor, but I'm also a regular person. How can Dr. Jian understand how I feel? I've loved him for so many years that it's become a habit. How can I just throw away a habit? Besides, he still owed me a card. "I want him to live! I want him to live!" I ran to him again and tried to knock the life back into his body.
"Take her away!" That day, I lost my control and my professionalism.
And that day happened to be Valentine's Day.
Afterwards, I asked his co-workers why he left work early that day.
They told me that after I hung up the phone, he tried to call me several times but couldn't reach me. Worried, he drove to the hospital to find me and got hit by a large truck on the way.
When I heard this, I froze. My tantrum killed him. Just because of an unmailed card, he died. After that, I lost my privilege to be childish.
Like an abandoned cat, I couldn't even cry anymore. After his death, I couldn't cry anymore, regardless of how touching the plot or how tear-jerking the dialogue. They didn't affect me anymore.
Now, I'm only left with a cat and a seldomly used computer. Stepping over the cat, I turned on the computer. Even though I know no one will send me a mail, I still hoped that someone will remember me on this day.
Meow, meow. I looked at Christine to see what's wrong. She finished her milk. I went into the kitchen to get her more milk then came back to look at the computer screen.
I have.... 100 emails! Who would be bored enough to send me 100 junk mail?
I was just about to delete them all when I received another mail, and this one said: "Because of system error, we could not send these until today.
We apologize for the delay." The sender was my ISP.
I looked at the 1st mail. It showed the send date is last year's Valentine's Day. My heart began to beat fast. Could he have sent these?
With a trembling hand, I opened the mail. The first thing that popped up was a gorgeous red rose set against green leaves. Then a beautiful melody began to play.... "Only Love". I couldn't believe it. The rose was so beautiful and the music was so dreamy. I almost thought I was in a fantasy. Most touching of all were the words underneath the rose, because the words read like a beautiful poem.
"Hwei."
That's my name.
"Knowing you so many years, I've never sent you any flowers. Today I send you a rose."
I received it and it's so beautiful.
"You know we are always fighting. We can never really open our hearts and tell each other how we feel."
Yes, but it's all your fault for being so distant.
"I know I always make you mad by the things I say."
Good that you're admitting it.
"But today I want to say to you: I'm sorry, and I love you."
I waited so many years for those words.
"And I want to tell you a good news. I finally saved enough money."
You already have enough money. Why did you need so much?
"So Hwei, let's get married!! I was afraid to propose to you, because I didn't trust in my ability to give you the good life you deserve. But now I've saved enough money so we don't have to wait anymore."
Who wanted you to wait? I'm already yours.
"Today, I use this card to propose to you. Will you marry me, Hwei? Will you?"
That's the content of the whole card. Like a fool, I kept reading his words and talking to him. It's like I can hear his voice and see him again.
As if it's back to 1 year ago with us constantly fighting.
The song played over and over. Repeating Nana's heartbreaking voice.
Only love can make a memory. Only love can make a moment last. You were there and all the world was young and all it's songs unsung. and I remember you then when love was all, all you were living for,
and how you gave that love to me...."
The lyrics of this song fits our love so closely. When he was alive, my world was so young. Every day, I could find a something different to fight with him about. But after he left, my life is only left with memories and coldness that will never go away.
"Will you marry me?"
When I read these words, my tears unconsciously came, wetting the keyboard.
Will I? If he's in front of me, I will definitely kick him and call him a big fool. If I wasn't willing, I wouldn't have waited until today.
So I moved the cursor over the "Reply" box, and typed the response that I've already prepared for so many years - "I will."
I will - be by his side for the rest of my life. I will - fight with him forever. That is how I answered him, but the only response I got was the repeating song "Only Love."
Nevertheless, I opened every single letter, accepted every singled rose, and typed the same response: "I will."
I replied 100 times, and "Only Love" played 100 times. In this cold Valentine's night, the line that's been broken for 1 year finally got reconnected.
I answered you. What about you?
It's so cold today.I'm standing at my window, looking at the people moving like little dots. Standing in a heated room, I'm beginning to pity those people. Why don't they go home? Do they plan on wandering until morning?
"Almost time to go home! My boyfriend must be going crazy." One of the nurses breathe a sign of relief. "Still needs to work overtime on Valentine's Day. It's so unfair!"
"You are fortunate." Another nurse says. "Some people don't have anyone waiting for them."
"You mean Dr. Shu?"
Like Sherlock Holmes, my ears perk up when I hear my name.
"Do you remember how she lost control on this day last year?"
"Of course I do." A nurse shudders. "I've never seen Dr. Shu like that. Crying and yelling, like she was crazy."
They are talking about how I was last year. They are correct. I was out of control, like they said.
"You can't blame Dr. Shu. If my boyfriend died in front of my eyes, I would probably go crazy as well."
"Keep it down. She hasn't left work yet. She might hear you."
The two nurses are too late. I heard the entire conversation through the canvas wall.
"Dr. Shu, what are you doing standing here?"
Just as I was deciding whether or not to reveal myself, another nurse exposed me. I awkwardly step out. The 2 nurses who discussed me start to blush. Their faces became redder than the bow on Valentine's Day chocolates.
"I'm waiting to go home." I pretend that I didn't hear anything.
"Dr. Shu, you must have gotten too involved in your work. It's already past time to go home. See you tomorrow. Happy Valentine's Day!" She waves goodbye.
"Happy Valentine's Day." I wave back and watch the 2 nurses hurry away.
That's fine. I was ready to go home anyway. Even though no lover is waiting
for me, at least there's a lazy cat waiting for me to feed.
After I come home, the first thing I do is feed the cat. I forgot when I first had the cat. Probably since last year's Valentine's Day. At that time, I was like an abandoned cat, with eyes filled with despair. Cats don't cry, I do. That's the only difference.
"Better drink all the milk or I'll skin you." I threatened the cat. Her name is Christine, my least favorite English name. I don't know why I named the cat Christine. Christine meowed once to let me know she heard me, but her eyes are complaining about my severity. Her eyes remind me of someone I used to know, standing in front of me with eyes of rebellions.
An year ago today, I had lunch with my boyfriend and took the opportunity to complain to him.
"Today is Valentine's Day. Why didn't you give me any flowers?"
He raised his eyebrow. "Why should I give you flowers? You are not my anyone."
"Then... you should at least give me a card!" I pouted my lips, hurt by his tone.
"I know, I know. After lunch, I'll send you an e-card."
E-card. That sounds so impersonal, but that's the way he is. "You have to e-mail it to me. I'll be waiting." I excitedly smiled and planned to sneak home after lunch to check e-mail. Even though he wouldn't use any romantic words, I still looked forward to the card.
"I can't stand you women. Why do you make such a big deal out of Valentine's Day??" He grumbled while eating his food. His comment induced me to fight with him again.
"You are not romantic at all!! Don't you watch any Japanese drama?"
"Japanese drama? I only watch Discovery Channel."
"Your life is so boring." I made a face at him. "One recent drama was really good. You should have watched it."
"What's that drama called?" He didn't believe in the love portrayed in TV and movies. He always thought they were lies.
"It's called 'Story of A Century'." I gladly answered.
"What kind of trashy plot did it have?"
"What do you mean trash?? Show some respect!" I was so angry. "That drama was very touching, and the theme song was beautiful as well. It's called 'Only Love', performed by Nana Mouskouri." I wonder if he knew who Nana was.
"Nana, I know her. A Greek singer with really expensive albums."
"Her voice is worth it." Even though I secretly agreed with him, I couldn't bring myself to admit it.
"Whatever." He glanced at his watch. "I'll give you 5 minutes to tell me the plot. After that, I'm leaving."
I tried hard to explain 6 hours worth of story in just 5 minutes. The drama portrayed the love stories of 3 generations of women spanning 100 years, from 1901 to 2000. Each generation was portrayed by the same actress. The story was tear-jerking.
"What's so touching about it?" He asked, after listening to the story.
"Don't you think each generation's story is wonderful? If I have such great screen writing ability, I wouldn't be a doctor anymore. I would become a screenwriter."
"If you become a screenwriter, I bet no one would watch the show. The TV station can go out of business." He quickly interjected.
"I'm going back to work. Hurry and send me the card!" I was so mad that I went home immediately, not even finishing my coffee.
As soon as I walked in my door, I turned on my computer and go online.
Staring at the empty in-box, I began to reminisce about how we met. Maybe no one will believe me, but my boyfriend and I were actually neighbors. Our homes were only 1 wall away. Ever since we were kids, we liked to fight with each other all day long. I still remember when I moved to the country that year. Used to the city life, I couldn't get used to the simple life in the country. After school, I would just go home and do nothing. Whenever that happened, he would always come over to tease me.
"Why are you staring off into space??" He loved to pull on my hair. "You're so ugly when you're doing nothing. But you're also not pretty when you smile." In other words, I'm really ugly.
"You're the one who's ugly!" I pull back my hair. "If you think I'm so ugly, why do you visit me??"
"Can't help it. My home is right next to your home." He argued.
"Then I'll move!" The next day, I drew a line in the ground using some white chalk. A line that I forbid him to cross.
That year, we were both in the 5th grade. We couldn't stand each other and hoped the other would move away. But 5 years passed, and neither of us moved. Not only that, we got into the same high school and into the same class.
"You're that infamous couple." All the students and teachers in the school would say whenever they saw us.
"We're not!" I always tried to explain. "We're only neighbors." At that time, I hated my parents for making us live next to him.
"My standard is not that low." He would say. "Who wants her to be a girlfriend?? It's not like I don't have eyes."
"Yes, I know your eyes are on top of your head." I really disliked him. "Better than having eyes on the bottom of my head like you." He implied that I couldn't judge guys. At that time, I had a crush on a senior.
I didn't think that his sarcasm had a hidden meaning. After a while, I found out that the senior student had lots of girlfriends. When I cried about it, he silently passed me a handkerchief and awkwardly held me in his arms.
"I told you he wasn't any good." He roughly comforted me. I cried in his arms the whole night, and began to see him in a different way. Things began to change between us. We still fought all the time, but he started to look at me differently. And I blushed and my heart beat faster when he was near. We both knew: we fell in love with each other.
Even with this knowledge, neither of us said anything. Even though we would
not be able to resist and kissed each other constantly. Even though we cared about each other's every moves. Both of us refused to admit our love.
Time flew by quickly, and it was time to face separation. I chose to study medicine, and he chose physics. Yet we still couldn't separate from each other. Our parents worried that we didn't know anyone in Taipei, so they forced us to live in the same apartment building. Once again, we became neighbors. We still fought, but sometimes we fought into the bedroom. Alright, we became lovers, but we still wouldn't say we loved each other. We didn't even spend Valentine's Day together until he saw me share dinner with a man one Valentine's Day. That night, he waited for me in front of my door and said that he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day from then on. I have to say that he was very arrogant. But I nodded and accepted his request. Since then, we spent every Valentine's Day together. After graduation, I became an intern. He started a small computer company with some friends and became a programmer. We were busy with our own lives and had no time for a relationship. Three years later, I became a doctor, and his business began to boom. We separately moved to bigger
apartments and stopped being neighbors. On the surface, we left each other. In reality, we were still together. We spent every Valentine's Day together but each year became more dreary than the next because he never told me he loved me even with all my hints.
Facing the empty in-box, I suddenly grew very angry. He wouldn't say it and wouldn't send me a card. What did he mean? Who did he think I was? I called his cell phone.
"Hello." He picked up the phone.
"I didn't receive the card." I immediately showed my displeasure.
"You didn't receive it?" He seemed really busy. "But I sent it."
He was really busy but I didn't care. "I didn't receive it. Send it again."
"Okay, I'll send you 100 times. Is that good enough??" He said with impatience. His tone further infuriated me. Is that how lovers speak to each other?
"Don't bother sending it to me. And you don't have to pick me up tonight.
I'll eat dinner by myself."
"Don't be childish, ok? I'm really busy."
"I AM childish!" I hung up the phone and tears rolled down my cheeks.
Childish?? Why didn't he consider the situation? We've gone out for so many years and spent countless Valentine's Day together. I never received any flowers nor cards from him. Now, I just want a little e-card. Is that too much to ask for??
I unplugged the phone from the wall and turned off my cell phone. I didn't want to hear his explanations. After I returned to the hospital, I instructed the receptionist not to forward me any phone calls. I wanted to concentrate on work.
Because there were so many emergencies today, I was sweating 1 hour later and forgot about our argument.
"Dr. Shu, please take a look at that patient."
As I was collecting my equipment, the shrill sound of an ambulance sounded outside the ER. When I stepped out the door, the emergency medics hurriedly wheeled in a gurney.
"What happened to him?" I asked the 1st medic. Everyone else were trying to help put the patient on the gurney. He was covered with blood.
"Car accident." The medic replied. "Very serious. He may die."
I nodded and ran to the operating room with them. When I arrived, the nurses told me that the man had already stopped breathing and also his heartbeat also stopped
"Prepare for shock." I calmly instructed the nurses. Saving people is our duty. We can't lose our calm.
But when I saw who laid on the operating table, I lost my calm. That person was my boyfriend!
"No..." I stood in shock. "NO!!!" I grabbed the paddles and continuously shocked his body. His body bounced up and down from the shocks. The scared nurses went to find another doctor, to tell him that I was crazy.
I didn't know if I was crazy or not. I just wanted to save my lover. Even though we fought all the time. Even though he never showed me his love. I still wanted to save him. He still owed me a card. He couldn't die! I threw away the paddles and began to press on his heart. I pressed with all my strength, hoping it would revive him, but he didn't wake up. He didn't even say "It hurts". He just laid there with his eyes closed, punishing me with his silence.
Dr. Jian angrily pushed me away. By that time, I couldn't see clearly anymore. I cried. I wailed. I bowled until no sounds could come out of my mouth.
"It's too late, Dr. Shu. He's already dead. I'm sorry." Dr. Jian patted me on the shoulder. They knew each other and ate together once. I introduced them.
"He can't die." I shook my head. "He can't die!!" I struggled to run to him.
"Dr. Shu, control yourself!" Dr. Jian slapped me. "I understand what you're going through, but you're a doctor."
Yes, I'm a doctor, but I'm also a regular person. How can Dr. Jian understand how I feel? I've loved him for so many years that it's become a habit. How can I just throw away a habit? Besides, he still owed me a card. "I want him to live! I want him to live!" I ran to him again and tried to knock the life back into his body.
"Take her away!" That day, I lost my control and my professionalism.
And that day happened to be Valentine's Day.
Afterwards, I asked his co-workers why he left work early that day.
They told me that after I hung up the phone, he tried to call me several times but couldn't reach me. Worried, he drove to the hospital to find me and got hit by a large truck on the way.
When I heard this, I froze. My tantrum killed him. Just because of an unmailed card, he died. After that, I lost my privilege to be childish.
Like an abandoned cat, I couldn't even cry anymore. After his death, I couldn't cry anymore, regardless of how touching the plot or how tear-jerking the dialogue. They didn't affect me anymore.
Now, I'm only left with a cat and a seldomly used computer. Stepping over the cat, I turned on the computer. Even though I know no one will send me a mail, I still hoped that someone will remember me on this day.
Meow, meow. I looked at Christine to see what's wrong. She finished her milk. I went into the kitchen to get her more milk then came back to look at the computer screen.
I have.... 100 emails! Who would be bored enough to send me 100 junk mail?
I was just about to delete them all when I received another mail, and this one said: "Because of system error, we could not send these until today.
We apologize for the delay." The sender was my ISP.
I looked at the 1st mail. It showed the send date is last year's Valentine's Day. My heart began to beat fast. Could he have sent these?
With a trembling hand, I opened the mail. The first thing that popped up was a gorgeous red rose set against green leaves. Then a beautiful melody began to play.... "Only Love". I couldn't believe it. The rose was so beautiful and the music was so dreamy. I almost thought I was in a fantasy. Most touching of all were the words underneath the rose, because the words read like a beautiful poem.
"Hwei."
That's my name.
"Knowing you so many years, I've never sent you any flowers. Today I send you a rose."
I received it and it's so beautiful.
"You know we are always fighting. We can never really open our hearts and tell each other how we feel."
Yes, but it's all your fault for being so distant.
"I know I always make you mad by the things I say."
Good that you're admitting it.
"But today I want to say to you: I'm sorry, and I love you."
I waited so many years for those words.
"And I want to tell you a good news. I finally saved enough money."
You already have enough money. Why did you need so much?
"So Hwei, let's get married!! I was afraid to propose to you, because I didn't trust in my ability to give you the good life you deserve. But now I've saved enough money so we don't have to wait anymore."
Who wanted you to wait? I'm already yours.
"Today, I use this card to propose to you. Will you marry me, Hwei? Will you?"
That's the content of the whole card. Like a fool, I kept reading his words and talking to him. It's like I can hear his voice and see him again.
As if it's back to 1 year ago with us constantly fighting.
The song played over and over. Repeating Nana's heartbreaking voice.
Only love can make a memory. Only love can make a moment last. You were there and all the world was young and all it's songs unsung. and I remember you then when love was all, all you were living for,
and how you gave that love to me...."
The lyrics of this song fits our love so closely. When he was alive, my world was so young. Every day, I could find a something different to fight with him about. But after he left, my life is only left with memories and coldness that will never go away.
"Will you marry me?"
When I read these words, my tears unconsciously came, wetting the keyboard.
Will I? If he's in front of me, I will definitely kick him and call him a big fool. If I wasn't willing, I wouldn't have waited until today.
So I moved the cursor over the "Reply" box, and typed the response that I've already prepared for so many years - "I will."
I will - be by his side for the rest of my life. I will - fight with him forever. That is how I answered him, but the only response I got was the repeating song "Only Love."
Nevertheless, I opened every single letter, accepted every singled rose, and typed the same response: "I will."
I replied 100 times, and "Only Love" played 100 times. In this cold Valentine's night, the line that's been broken for 1 year finally got reconnected.
I answered you. What about you?
A Couple's Heartbreak
A boy was born to a couple after eleven years of marriage. They were a loving couple and the boy was the apple of their eyes. When the boy was around two years old, one morning the husband saw a medicine bottle open. He was late for work so he asked the wife to cap the bottle and keep it in the cupboard. The mother, preoccupied in the kitchen, totally forgot the matter.
The boy saw the bottle and playfully went to the bottle and, fascinated with its color, drank it all. It happened to be a poisonous medicine meant for adults in small dosages. When the child collapsed, the mother hurried him to the hospital, where he died. The mother was stunned. She was terrified how to face her husband.
When the distraught father came to the hospital and saw the dead child, he looked at his wife and uttered just four words.
What do you think were the four words?
The husband just said "I Love You Darling"
The husband's totally unexpected reaction is proactive behavior. The child is dead. He can never be brought back to life. There is no point in finding fault with the mother. Besides, if only he have taken time to keep the bottle away, this will not have happened. No
point in attaching blame. She had also lost her only child. What she needed at that moment was consolation and sympathy from the husband. That is what he gave her.
Sometimes we spend time asking who is responsible or who to blame, whether in a relationship, in a job or with the people we know. We miss out some warmth in human relationship in giving each other support. After all, shouldn't forgiving someone we love be the easiest thing in the world to do? Treasure what you have. Don't multiply pain, anguish and suffering by holding on to forgiveness.
If everyone can look at life with this kind of perspective, there would be much fewer problems in the world.
Take off all your envies, jealousies, unwillingness to forgive, selfishness, and fears and you will find things are actually not as difficult as you think.
The boy saw the bottle and playfully went to the bottle and, fascinated with its color, drank it all. It happened to be a poisonous medicine meant for adults in small dosages. When the child collapsed, the mother hurried him to the hospital, where he died. The mother was stunned. She was terrified how to face her husband.
When the distraught father came to the hospital and saw the dead child, he looked at his wife and uttered just four words.
What do you think were the four words?
The husband just said "I Love You Darling"
The husband's totally unexpected reaction is proactive behavior. The child is dead. He can never be brought back to life. There is no point in finding fault with the mother. Besides, if only he have taken time to keep the bottle away, this will not have happened. No
point in attaching blame. She had also lost her only child. What she needed at that moment was consolation and sympathy from the husband. That is what he gave her.
Sometimes we spend time asking who is responsible or who to blame, whether in a relationship, in a job or with the people we know. We miss out some warmth in human relationship in giving each other support. After all, shouldn't forgiving someone we love be the easiest thing in the world to do? Treasure what you have. Don't multiply pain, anguish and suffering by holding on to forgiveness.
If everyone can look at life with this kind of perspective, there would be much fewer problems in the world.
Take off all your envies, jealousies, unwillingness to forgive, selfishness, and fears and you will find things are actually not as difficult as you think.
Lost Love
This is a personal account of a ghost story that occured over 10 years ago.
This "true experience" friml supported my theory that our departed loved ones can convey messages through dreams.
Back in 1989, being a fresh graduate Psychology graduate, I landed a job in
the personnel department in one of the government offices in Quezon City. A male co-worker, Jun, was 11 years older than me. He became one of my friends while working there. Jun was king, loving, and romantic. He was the breadwinner of his family. His parents and relatives liked me a lot. Being single and unattached, he courted me in 1990. I accepted his marriage proposal during the latter part of that year.
My parents did not approve of our relationship and when the first quarter of 1991 came, my parents made me quit my job. My dad, being a military man, even threatened Jun to Jun to stay away from me. To make our long story short, I left my job. I lost track of Jun I bussied myself with the family business. Basically, I went on with my life and tried to forget about him.
On the morning of June 2, 1994 I received a telegram from his aunt, saying that Jun had died the day before June 1, 1994. Shocked I crumpled the short note and hurriedly phoned his aunt for confirmation. She told me that when we parted, Jun resigned from his job and drunk heavily each day. He neglected his death as well as his body. Pneumonia had caused his sudden death. "You know Jun. Everyday and up to his remaining hours, all her wanted was to see you. During his final moments, while suffering from delirium, he even told us that he still loves you very much," Jun's aunt said.
Sadly, my parents wouldn't allow me to go to his wake. I mourned quietly inside my room. There even came a point where I convinced myself that he wasn't dead.
On January 1995, just before my birthday, Jun visited me in a dream. I dreamed that I was inside a hospital room. I was wearing a hospital gown and I was sitting at the foot of my bed. Jun suddenly appeared before me, clothed in bright lights. We communicated mentally. I told him it wasn't true that he was gone. He replied that I must accept the fact that he was already dead but it didn't mean that he as leaving me. "I will always be beside you, gaurding you," he said
I cried saying, "I'm sorry I didn't have the guts to fight for our relationship."
He comforted me and soothed me by shrouding me with his bright light. The bliss I felt was interrupted by voice calling hi name "It's time for me to go," he told me. "But what about me?" I asked, tears in my eyes. " I will be here for you always," he replied,"and I will be waiting for you there. And don't ever forget that love you very much."
After saying this, he vanished before my eyes. I woke up crying. After this accident, I finished began to accept his death. And whenever I'm depressed I feel his presence beside me I know somehow out there he's still waiting patiently for me.
This "true experience" friml supported my theory that our departed loved ones can convey messages through dreams.
Back in 1989, being a fresh graduate Psychology graduate, I landed a job in
the personnel department in one of the government offices in Quezon City. A male co-worker, Jun, was 11 years older than me. He became one of my friends while working there. Jun was king, loving, and romantic. He was the breadwinner of his family. His parents and relatives liked me a lot. Being single and unattached, he courted me in 1990. I accepted his marriage proposal during the latter part of that year.
My parents did not approve of our relationship and when the first quarter of 1991 came, my parents made me quit my job. My dad, being a military man, even threatened Jun to Jun to stay away from me. To make our long story short, I left my job. I lost track of Jun I bussied myself with the family business. Basically, I went on with my life and tried to forget about him.
On the morning of June 2, 1994 I received a telegram from his aunt, saying that Jun had died the day before June 1, 1994. Shocked I crumpled the short note and hurriedly phoned his aunt for confirmation. She told me that when we parted, Jun resigned from his job and drunk heavily each day. He neglected his death as well as his body. Pneumonia had caused his sudden death. "You know Jun. Everyday and up to his remaining hours, all her wanted was to see you. During his final moments, while suffering from delirium, he even told us that he still loves you very much," Jun's aunt said.
Sadly, my parents wouldn't allow me to go to his wake. I mourned quietly inside my room. There even came a point where I convinced myself that he wasn't dead.
On January 1995, just before my birthday, Jun visited me in a dream. I dreamed that I was inside a hospital room. I was wearing a hospital gown and I was sitting at the foot of my bed. Jun suddenly appeared before me, clothed in bright lights. We communicated mentally. I told him it wasn't true that he was gone. He replied that I must accept the fact that he was already dead but it didn't mean that he as leaving me. "I will always be beside you, gaurding you," he said
I cried saying, "I'm sorry I didn't have the guts to fight for our relationship."
He comforted me and soothed me by shrouding me with his bright light. The bliss I felt was interrupted by voice calling hi name "It's time for me to go," he told me. "But what about me?" I asked, tears in my eyes. " I will be here for you always," he replied,"and I will be waiting for you there. And don't ever forget that love you very much."
After saying this, he vanished before my eyes. I woke up crying. After this accident, I finished began to accept his death. And whenever I'm depressed I feel his presence beside me I know somehow out there he's still waiting patiently for me.
The Most Beautiful Flower
The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long,straggly branches of an old willow tree.
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
For the world was intent on dragging me down.
And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.
But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
And placed the flower to his nose and declared with overacted surprise,
"It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too.
That's why I picked it; here, it's for you."
The weed before me was dying or dead.
Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.
But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."
But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
It was then that I noticed for the very first time
That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
"You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play,
Unaware of the impact he'd had on my day.
I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
I vowed to see the beauty in life,
And appreciate every second that's mine.
And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
And smiled as I watched that young boy, Another weed in his hand,
About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.
a pure heart
It was late night, around 10pm. A young lady (Thea) was looking uneasy at the strain station. She was waiting for the last train to arrive, when she heard her phone rang. It was her brother. The line was suddenly cut off when she answered, and the phone did not ring again. The lady waited for a call back, but her phone did not ring. She sat on the bench, holding her phone. She was definitely uneasy and paranoid. She was looking around, looking for a phone loading station, but since was already late, the stalls were already closed. She had no choice but to wait till the train comes and wait till she gets home.
A young lady at her late 20's approached her. She was very sincere. She asked what was wrong. The lady looked at the stranger's eyes and said “nothing”. But the other lady was just so sincere and wanted to help.
She took out her cell phone from her shoulder bag and handed it to Thea. The helpful lady said, “ Here’s my phone, it has extra load, you can make a call.” “ is it ok?” said Thea. “ Yeah” she said, looking directly into her eyes. Then Thea, in a very shy manner, slowly dialed a number and talked w/ someone on the phone. A smile was on her face. “Thank you so much, you took my worries away.” “No worries girl, It was not me who took your worries away, it was HIM.”
The next Sunday, Thea went to church. Cried to God and thanked God for His faithfulness to her.
Christianity can be shared at any time at any place. Sharing God’s love and touching hearts are things that can fulfill us as sons and daughters of God.
my one true love..
his name was Keisuke. my one true love. I saved his life once, from my ex best friend Brooke. Brooke and Keisuke dated and loved each other but they broke up and no one was told why. both Keisuke and Brooke wanted to comit suicide but my friend and I stopped them both.Ari (my friend) stopped Brooke and i stopped Keisuke, Brooke disappeared for a while and no one knew where she went. Keisuke fell in love with me and i fell for him the same way. We dated for a few days when Brooke came back and apologized to me but she said she never wanted to talk to Keisuke again. me and Keisuke hid our love from Brooke because we knew she would be mad but a few hours later Brooke found out and told me we weren't best friends anymore. this was the second time i lost her over Keisuke, i blamed Keisuke without thinking, i think about it know and it brings tears to my eyes. I left that morning without saying goodbye to him because i was angry. i never said i loved him, or i was sorry or said goodbye and now i wish i had. I came home and he wasn't there, i called his name but he never answered. But Saeko another friend of ours, a close friend, cam to me with a note. she had tears in her eyes and she was shaking all over. i read the note and dropped on my knees. i didn't have the energy to scream becaue the energy and colour drained out of me. Keisuke had killed himself..he slit his wrist and stabbed himself in the stomach so he bled to death. Brooke found out he was dead and said she didn't care, that was what made me crack, i grabbed a knife and slit my own wrists the same way my love had done. i wanted to die with him the same way, i wanted to see him aain. to say i was sorry and i loved him, i wanted to kiss his warm lips once more and hold on to him tight. but it never happened. i passed out a while after i'd cut my wrists but woke up in hospital. Saeko saved my life because she knew Keisuke would of wanted me to live for both of us. I was his angel, his dark angel with black wings and a broken halo, but he saw me as an angel. nothing dark. he was my sun, he would rise every morning and watch over me throughout the day. I let him slip away like he was nothing, but to me he was everything.
Saeko and I are still really close friends. Brooke has gone missing again but i don't really have enough patience to care much more. I still miss Keisuke every day and i still dream of him. he was my one true love and i would give anything and everything to have him back. To see him smile again and call me his angel..
Smart Student
The college professor had just finished explaining an important research project to his class. He emphasized that this paper was an absolute requirement for passing his class, and that there would be only two acceptable excuses for being late.
Those were a medically certifiable illness or a death in the student's immediate family.
A 'smart' student in the back of the classroom waved his hand and spoke up. "But what about extreme sexual exhaustion, professor?"
As you would expect, the class exploded in laughter. When the students had finally settled down, the professor froze the young man with a glaring look.
"Well," he responded, "I guess you'll just have to learn to write with your other hand."
Weight Loss Plan-a fun story
A man calls a company and orders their 5-day, 10 lb. weight loss program.
The next day, there's a knock on the door and there stands before him a voluptuous, athletic, 19 year old babe dressed in nothing but a pair of Nike running shoes and a sign around her neck.
She introduces herself as a representative of the weight loss company.
The sign reads, "If you can catch me, you can have me."
Without a second thought, he takes off after her.
A few miles later huffing and puffing, he finally gives up.
The same girl shows up for the next four days and the same thing happens.
On the fifth day, he weighs himself and is delighted to find he has lost 10 lbs. as promised.
He calls the company and orders their 5-day/20 pound program.
The next day there's a knock at the door and there stands the most stunning and beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life.
She is wearing nothing but Reebok running shoes and a sign around her neck that reads, "If you catch me you can have me."
Well, he's out the door after her like a shot.
This girl is in excellent shape and he does his best, but no such luck.
So for the next four days, the same routine happens with him gradually getting in better and better shape.
Much to his delight on the fifth day when he weighs himself, he discovers that he has lost another 20 lbs. as promised.
He decides to go for broke and calls the company to order the 7-day/50 pound program.
"Are you sure?" asks the representative on the phone. "This is our most rigorous program."
"Absolutely," he replies, "I haven't felt this good in years."
The next day there's a knock at the door; and when he opens it he finds a huge muscular guy standing there wearing nothing but pink running shoes and a sign around his neck that reads,"If I catch you, you are mine!!!"
He lost 63 pounds that week.
Take Me To A Dream
Take me to a dream
That I never dreamed of,
To a place so beautiful
That we can stay for eternity,
A dream that seems to be
More real than real life
A dream of no problems or worries.
Take me to a dream
A place for just the two of us,
Where we can express our inner
most thoughts, feelings, and emotions,
To a beautiful land where nobody
Is there but just the two of us.
Take me to a dream
A dream where I can have fun,
Where I am not being fused or abused at
Controlled or being yelled at,
To a beautiful place that I can lay at
In peace where I can think at,
Where I will have no worries
and do nothing but dream.
Take me to a dream....
Feelings For A Boy
There is a boy
who has caught my eye.
I smile at him
every time he walks by.
He looks at me,
then looks down.
He says hi to me
while staring at the ground.
I start to shiver;
my heart beats fast.
My legs feel like jell-o;
it's nothing like the past.
I had never really known him;
he was just another guy.
But all that changed
when he first said hi.
Now, everything was different;
I no longer felt that way.
I found myself thinking about him
every single day.
We never really talk;
it seems like he doesn't want to.
He sometimes keeps to himself;
I don't know what to do.
Every night,
I stay up late.
Wondering how long
I'll have to wait.
I like him a lot;
my feelings are strong.
I can honestly say
they have been all along.
Like The Touch Of Rain
Like the Touch of Rain
Like the touch of rain she was
On a man's flesh and hair and eyes
When the joy of walking thus
Has taken him by surprise:
With the love of the storm he burns,
He sings, he laughs, well I know how,
But forgets when he returns
As I shall not forget her 'Go now'.
Those two words shut a door
Between me and the blessed rain
That was never shut before
and will not open again.
The Breath of Love
Some say they see love dying,
The colors of passion in battle like a sunset
Wounded, wailing and lights flickering,
Flames blown out by the mouth of darkness
As the curtains of night rise with the tide
But I?
I say that love is a sunrise,
Colors like tears falling from eyes,
Warmth like the press of your lips on my flesh
And upon loves birth, when the sunrise fades,
It has the day to enjoy until the sun sinks beneath the waters,
And its ending fades in vivid hue,
While hope hangs onto the coming morning dew. .
The Perfect Heart
One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.
Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said "Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine." The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.
The people stared - how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought? The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed. "You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."
"Yes," said the old man, "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared. Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance.
Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"
The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges. The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.
How sad it must be to go through life with a whole untouched heart
A Different Kind Of Love Story
Clothing was strewn about her bedroom in disarray. The normally organized jewelry box was a tangle of earrings and necklaces, the wash-cloth which had taken her make-up off was tossed on the sink, smeared with red streaks of blush that had since been reapplied. Her foot slipped back and forth between the gas and the brake. It wouldn't do to be pulled over. She'd heard the cops in this area were anal for the law. Fifty-five… what was that? Sixty-five was acceptable, when she was in a bad mood. Her friends teased her about having a lead foot. Her car had battle-scars in it, which she'd made fun of in the many letters she'd written. Some were to friends, some were to family, but Drew was neither. She'd met him through a pen-pal service fluke, two Americans whose paths accidentally crossed.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she thought to herself as she pulled into the parking lot. It wasn't raining, but the day was slightly overcast and smelled of springtime and newness. "This is something that I would yell at other people for doing. There's still time to get out of this." She stepped out of the car and headed toward the airport. Then she heard Michael's voice, from a long time ago. His lengthy courtship culminated with him down on one knee with an open ring box and sweet words of love. Finally the day came, and they were in the church ready to tell the world and God that they were husband and wife. It was like something dreams were made of. She'd fled that day, though, said she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't stop those ill-formed syllables from coming out of her mouth. "I can't be your wife," she said simply, and that was the end of it. That had eventually broken them up, his patience had finally run out. He wanted more out of life, more than an affair. She deserved better than that and he knew it. "You can't stand on the side of life and stick your toe in… either wade in waist-deep or don't go in at all- it's really your choice."
That seemed like years ago. Now, the mechanical voice came over the loudspeaker of the crowded terminal announcing the arrival of Flight 218, nonstop from New Orleans. Laurie sat up at the revelation, waiting for a gate number. She tossed her empty Styrofoam cup in the trash and wiped her moist palms on the legs of her jeans. "Relax, Laurie," she told herself, "There's nothing to be nervous about." But she was more than nervous. She was terrified.
Earlier that morning, she'd spent hours washing and brushing her long hair, the color and sheen of which made it her most prominent feature. She wanted to look put together, but not overdone. Her black glossy mane was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and held in place with a fluffy white bow. She couldn't seem to unwind… her sleek body was coiled up like a spring. One could have bounced a quarter off her nerves.
Drew had been her friend and confidante, there for her laughter and tears. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't gotten so personal with him, but she was looking for a void to fill. It had been a long time since Michael. There was a bit of a tan line on her finger still, a light stripe from the sun tattooing her hand as he had left his own imprint on her heart. "Drew isn't Michael; he won't hurt me," she reminded herself. "I couldn't have prevented what happened. What if he doesn't like the way I look? I couldn't stand that. What if this changes things? If I'm too short? Too tall? Not his type?"
She tried to stroll nonchalantly but almost tripped over the strappy sandals she'd bought in an effort to look cute. "Shouldn't have worn these," she chided herself, the buckle cutting at her ankle. She didn't know how she was going to pick him out of a crowd. He'd told her to expect the unexpected. She wasn't sure what he meant.
Laurie was almost clutching the rail she was so nervous. She watched a Manson-type rocker with a non-biodegradable blond on his arm. Behind him was a heavyset lumberjack type, smelling faintly of whiskey and the mountains. She wondered what kind of business he had in New Orleans. He didn't seem the type to sit on a muggy porch drinking java as the city reluctantly came to wake. The flight attendant offered to wheel the next client off the plane, but he smiled pleasantly and declined. He was handsome, with a strong muscular jaw and twinkling eyes. It was too bad about the chair.
She walked over to the flight attendant and asked if she could point out Drew Jacobs to her. She nodded toward the man in the wheelchair and when she glanced back at him, he smiled. She wanted to run. He wasn't her Prince Charming. She didn't think the chair would fit on the back of a horse. "Umm… Drew?" Why hadn't he told her in all those letters?
"Hey baby, wanna wrestle?" he jested, his eyes laughing. He kissed her hand and told her he'd been looking forward to meeting her for the first time. And suddenly, she wasn't nervous about her looks anymore.
Love Birds
Two lonely cranes sail through the crimson light,
In silhuoette
And landed,
More graceful than a ballerina's grace.
He nudged her head affectionately,
She kissed him.
He slowly caresses her arm,
She began exploring the gentle curve of his neck...
trailing kisses...
here...
and
there...
He whispered a sweet melody into her ear,
She bubbled with joyous laughter.
Two bodies entwine before the glowing sunset.
Driven by passions they began to call each other's name.
Faster and faster,
Sweating with rapid, heavy breathing,
Both trying to match the desires for each other.
And then a whirring object slice through the blood red sky.
Silence.
Dead silence.
Seems like eternity.
He fell to the ground with a heartbreaking thud.
Looked into her dark lovely eyes now swimming in tears,
So beautiful...
With the last of his effort
He gave her a sweet caw:
I love you my love,
You were the reason of my very existence.
Until death do us apart.
Fly my love, fly into the heavenly sky.
One day, we shall meet again.
And this time, not even death can do us apart.
He smiled serenely,
Fighting to keep his increasingly heavy eyelids open.
And then a wail...
Deep...
Long...
And scorching...
As if something was dying of a heart wound.
The sun is sinking in the horizon,
Silently weeping as her life-giving arms retreats.
She turned to the sky,
And flew as her lover commanded.
Oh my brave one...
Flew higher
And higher
And higher
And higher
Her graceful arms never a moment faltering.
Oh how peaceful it is up here...
The stars are slowly twinkling away from their daylight shyness.
And she swooped down.
Flew lower
And lower
And lower
And lower
Suddenly into the rock beside her beloved.
She gave him a sweet caw:
Do not leave yet, my love
I am coming too.
She kissed him.
The hunter slowly emerged from the forest,
Bow in one hand and a rope in another.
He kneel down in front of the lovers.
Looks up into the bittersweet sky, and see
Just as the sun's final rays descends into complete darkness.
Just as the two lovers hurry to catch the chariot into perpetual happiness.
He shook his head sadly
As he tied both cranes.
Tonight, his family won't starve
A Sad Love Story
One night a guy and girl were driving home from the movies. The boy sensed there was something wrong because of the painful silence they shared between them that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over because she wanted to talk. She told him that her feelings had changed and that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he slowly reached into his pocket and passed her a folded note. At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down that very same street. He swerved right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she pulled it out and read it.
" Without your love, I would die."
I Met My True Love
I met my one true love when I was in college hence at that time we were just classmates/schoolmates and was not attracted to each other. Time flies, after 10 years we had communication, exchanging messages to each other but didn’t push through to a more serious relationship.
I was surprise one day when he sent me a message online asking how am I and if we could meet to chat. I then decided to give it a try anyway it’s been a long time that he’s been trying to probe his feelings to me. We started going out learned about each other’s past. Both of us are in a relationship a few years back. But now both of us are happy, enjoying each other’s company.
He courted me, treated me the way I really dreamt of and felt his love all the time that we were together. It was the first time I felt this way to a person and was loved in return. We were so happy, we have plans for the future, laugh at it and he even suggests to save and get married. I was so excited when I heard those to him. But sometimes good things come to an end.
He just walked away with me without saying a word, I waited for him to come back, swallowed my pride and tried to reach out but he doesn’t replied to my message and ignored my calls. I just want him to know that I loved him so much and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.
After 15 years of waiting we just end up like that and now he has a family of his own. It never came into my mind that he will tie a knot to any girl coz all I want from him is his commitment. Thou I don’t have regret in loving him even in the simplest way; he just didn’t give me a chance to prove to him how much he mean to me. He just can’t wait for me since I still have a lot of dreams to be fulfilled and responsibilities to attend to.
One by one, I achieved my goals hence the consequence of those are not having you forever. I understand what happened to us and I will always will… Take care cheesecake, you will always be my Dee forever…
It’s Mee (Hot Choco)
7 Family Habits
HABIT 1: BE PROACTIVE
It is so easy to be reactive! You get caught Lip in the moment. You say things you dot* mean. You do things you later regret. And you think, "If only I had stopped to think about it, I never would have reacted that way!"
Family life would be a whole lot better if (people acted according to their values instead of reacting to the emotion or circumstance of the moment It's possible to develop a habit of learning to pause and give wiser responses. Proactively is the ability to act rather than react.
I have a friend who makes a powerful proactive choice every day. When she comes home from work, she sits in her car in the driveway and pauses. She takes a minute to think about the members of her family and what they are doing inside the house She considers what kind of feeling she wants to help create when she goes, inside. She says to herself, "my family is the most enjoyable, the most pleasant, the most important part of my life. I'm going to go into my home and feel and communicate my love for them."
Just think of the difference this makes in her family. And another friend told me this story, which shows Habit 1 in action:
While my wife was out of the room, my three-year-old son Brenton emptied a one-and-a-half-gallon jug of water from the fridge-most of it onto the kitchen floor. My wife's initial reaction had been to yell at him. Instead, she stopped herself and said patiently, "Brenton, what were you trying to do?"
"I was trying to be a helping man, Mom," he replied proudly.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I washed the dishes for you."
Sure enough, there on the kitchen table were all the dishes he had washed with the water from the jug.
"Well, honey, why did you use the water from the fridge?"
"I couldn't reach the water from the sink."
"Oh!" my wife said. Then she looked around. "Well, what do you think you could do next time that would make less of a mess?"
He thought about it for a minute. Then his face lit up. "I could do it in the bathroom!"
"The dishes might break in the bathroom," she replied. "But how about this? What if you came and got me and I helped you move a chair in front of the kitchen sink so you could do the work there?"
"Good idea!" he exclaimed.
As my wife was telling me what had happened, I realized how important it was that she had been able to catch herself between stimulus and response. She had made a proactive choice.
One useful way to communicate the idea of proactivity is through an analogy I call the "emotional bank account." This account is like a financial one in that you can make "deposits"-things that build trust in the relationship-or "withdrawals" - things that decrease the level of trust. The balance in the account determines how well you can communicate and solve problems with another person.
One of the great benefits of being proactive is that you can choose to make deposits instead of withdrawals. No matter what the situation, there are always things you can choose to do that will make relationships better.
Little kindnesses go a long way toward building relationships of trust and unconditional love. just think about the impact in your own family of saying "thank you," "please" or "you go first." Or performing unexpected acts of service such as phoning to see if there's anything you can pick up at the store on your way home. Twelve hugs a day-that's what people need. Hugs can be physical, verbal, visual or environmental. And each one is a deposit in the emotional bank account.
You would be hard pressed to come up with a deposit that has more impact than making and keeping promises. just think about it! How much excitement, anticipation and hope is created by a promise?
Our daughter Cynthia shared this memory:
When I was twelve, Dad promised to take me with him on a business trip to San Francisco. I was so excited! After Dad's meetings, we planned to go to Chinatown for dinner, see a movie, take a ride on a trolley car, then go back to our hotel room for hot fudge sundaes from room service. I was dying with anticipation.
The day finally arrived. The hours dragged by as I waited at the hotel. Finally, at 6:30 p.m., Dad returned with a dear friend and influential business acquaintance. My heart sank as this man said, "I'm so delighted to have you here, Stephen. Tonight, Lois and I would like to take you to the wharf for a seafood dinner, and then you must see the view from our house." I could see my hopes and plans going down the drain.
I will never forget the feeling I had when Dad said, "Gosh, Bill, I'd love to, but this is a special time with my daughter. We've already got it planned to the minute."
We did absolutely everything we had planned. I don't think any young girl ever loved her father as much as I loved mine that night.
HABIT 2: BEGIN WITH THE END IN MIND
With Habit 2, you create a clear, compelling vision of what your family is-and where you want to go together. The most profound, significant and far-reaching application of Habit 2 is the family mission statement. This is a combined, unified expression from all family members of what it is your family really wants to do and be-and the principles you choose to govern your family life.
When children are young, they generally love to be included in the process of creating a mission statement. They love helping to create something that gives them this sense of family identity.
Our daughter Catherine, who's now grown and has children of her own, said:
Before my husband and I were married, we talked about what we wanted our home to be like, especially when we had children. It was out of these discussions that we wrote our family mission statement.
We have three children now, and although our mission statement has remained fundamentally the same, it has changed a little with each child. After we had two children, we had more perspective, and we were able to realize better how we wanted to raise our kids together-how we wanted them to be upstanding citizens in the community and so on.
The children have added things to our mission statement as well. Our oldest is six. She wants to make sure we tell lots of jokes in our family, so we have added that in for her.
Every New Year's Eve we work on our mission statement and write out our goals for the coming year. Our kids are very excited about the whole process. We post our mission statement and the children refer to it often. They say, "Mom, you're not supposed to raise your voice. Remember-'happy, cheerful tones in our home."' It's a big reminder.
Here's how to create a mission statement in your family.
Step One: Explore what your family is all about. Call a family meeting to introduce the idea and start the process. Keep it short: Ten fun minutes a week over a period of several weeks will be much more effective than one or two long, philosophical discussions.
Be explicit with the idea that you want the mission statement to serve as a unifying and motivating influence for everyone in the family. Ask questions such as: What things are truly important to us as a family? What are our family's highest priority goals? What kind of relationships do we want to have with each other? What are our responsibilities as family members?
Step Two: Write your family mission statement. The process of writing crystallizes your thoughts and distills learning and insights into words. It also reinforces learning and makes the expression visible and available to everyone in the family.
Whatever you come up with at first will be a rough draft. Family members will need to work with it until everyone comes to an agreement: "This is our mission. We believe it. We buy into it. We are ready to commit to live it."
It doesn't have to be some magnificent verbal expression. It may be a word, a page, a document, even a song or a drawing. The only real criterion is that it represents everyone in the family and inspires you and brings you together.
Step Three: Stay on track. A mission statement is meant to be the constitution of your family life, the foundational document that will unify and hold your family together for decades-even generations-to come.
One father told me:
For our blended family, having a mission statement has been tremendously helpful. It gives us some common values and a common focus on where we're going. It reads: "Our family mission: To always be kind, respectful and supportive of each other, to be honest and open with each other, to keep a spiritual feeling in the home, to love each other unconditionally, to be responsible to live a happy, healthy and fulfilling life, to make this house a place we want to come home to."
We put the statement in a beautiful frame and hung it over the fireplace, and every week we have somebody share what one of those words or sentences means to him or her. It only takes two or three minutes, but it makes the mission statement come alive. We're also setting goals around the mission statement, making it a central part of our lives.
HABIT 3: PUT FIRST THINGS FIRST
There's no way we can be successful in our families if we don't prioritize them in our lives. And this is what Habit 3 is about.
There is probably no single structure that will help you to prioritize more than a weekly family night. On a typical night in our own family over the years, we would review our calendar of upcoming events, hold a council to discuss issues and problems, have a talent recital so the kids could show us how they were coming along with their music or dance lessons, do a short lesson and a family activity and serve refreshments. In this way, we'd accomplish what we've come to feel are the four main ingredients of a successful family night: planning, problem-solving, teaching and fun.
The second absolutely foundational family structure is the one-on-one bonding time. These one-on-ones are where most of the real work of the family is done. This is where the most significant sharing, the most profound teaching, the deepest bonding takes place.
A mother of five sons said:
The other day, I took My 22-year-old son out to lunch. As we ate together, we talked about his life, including his classes at school, his plans for the future, and so on.
We had a wonderful time just being together. As I thought about it later, 1 realized this is something that didn't just happen. I started this one on-one tradition when the boys were in elementary school, and it's really made a difference. I don't think I could have this kind of time with my son now if we hadn’t started doing it when he was younger.
HABIT 4 THINK "WIN-WIN"
As we move toward our destination as a family, we're sometimes thrown off track by external forces. But the force that does the greatest damage is the climate created within the family by negative emotions-competition, criticism, blaming, anger.
The key to handling these challenges is to cultivate a family culture of mutual respect, understanding and creative cooperation. This is the essence of Habits 4, 5 and 6.
One father told this story:
Our two boys were very competitive and squabbled frequently. Finally, I confronted the older boy about it. He abruptly announced, "The thing you don't get is that I can't stand my brother." 1 was shocked by the intensity of his feelings.
Then I asked the older boy to tell his brother what he'd told me. The younger boy was hurt by the cutting words. Blinking back tears, he looked down and quietly said, "Why?"
His brother was quick with his answer: "Because you're always saying things that make me mad. I just don't want to be around you."
The younger brother sighed. "I do that because every time we play a game you always win."
"Sure I do," the older boy quickly replied. "I'm better than you."
With that, the little boy could hardly speak. But he said, "Yeah, but every time you win, I lose. So I say things to bug you. I just cant stand to lose all the time."
These tearful words reached the heart of the older brother. The tone of his words softened as he said, "I'm sorry. But will you please just stop saying and doing the stupid things that make me so mad at you?"
"OK," the younger boy replied. "And will you stop feeling that you always have to win?"
I know I'll never forget my young son’s words. Losing all the time, or even most of the time, can make any of us say and do stupid things that bug others and even ourselves.
No one likes to "lose" _especially in close family relationships. So win-win is the only solid foundation for effective family interaction. It's the only pattern of thinking and interacting that builds long-term relationships of trust and unconditional love. And all it takes to change the situation is for one person to think win-win.
Thinking win-win means you have this spirit of win-win in all family interactions. You always want what's best for everyone involved.
Of course, there will be times when you'll have to say no to children. This doesn’t feel like a win to them. But if you cultivate the spirit of win-win whenever you can, children will better understand and accept those decisions that sometimes seem to them to be win-lose. There are several ways to achieve this.
* Let them win in the little things. In our family, if children want to go outside, get their clothes dirty or leave a cardboard fort in the house for weeks, we generally let them do it. We try to distinguish between matters of principle and matters of preference, and only take a stand on things that really count.
* Talk with them about the big things. That way they'll know you have their welfare in mind. Try to involve them in the problem and work out the solution together.
*Take steps to offset the competition focus. Recently, 1 went to watch our granddaughter play in an important soccer match, which ultimately ended in a tie. Her team was demoralized, and the coach was deeply disappointed also.
So I began to say enthusiastically, "Great game, kids! You had five goals-to try your best, to have fun, to work together as a team, to learn and to win. You accomplished four and a half of those goals. That's ninety Percent! Congratulations!"
You could just see their eyes brighten up. And it wasn't long until players, coach and parents were celebrating the four and a half goals these kids had achieved.
HABIT 5: SEEK FIRST TO UNDERSTAND ... THEN TO BE UNDERSTOOD
There's simply no way to have rich, rewarding family relationships without real understanding. Most mistakes with our family members are not the result of bad intent. It's just that we don't understand. We don't see clearly into each other's hearts.
Really listening to get inside another person's mind and heart is called "empathic" listening. It enables you to see as someone else sees-and it also helps family members feel safe in sharing, gets to the real issues and helps people connect with their own unique gifts.
Suppose that for several days, your teenage daughter has seemed unhappy. One night, while you're washing dishes together, she finally begins to open up: "Our family rule that I cant date until I'm older is embarrassing me to death. All my friends are dating. I feel like I'm out of it."
An empathic response would attempt to reflect back what your daughter feels and says, so that she would feel that you really understand. For example: "You kind of feel torn up inside. You understand the rule, but you feel embarrassed when you have to say no to dates. Is that what you mean?"
She might say yes and go on deeper into her feelings. Or she may say,
"Well, not exactly. What I really mean is..." \When you give an understanding response, you make it safe for her to open up. You make it comfortable for her to air the problem so that together you can search for solutions. And you build the relationship.
There are other expressions of empathy besides summarizing and reflecting. Sometimes total silence may be empathic; sometimes a nod or a single word is empathic. Empathy is a very flexible, sincere and humble process.
But there's more to Habit 5. It doesn't mean seek only to understand. It simply means that you listen and understand first. This is the key to .being understood and influencing others. When you are open to their influence, you'll almost always have greater influence with them.
One woman shared this:
My husband and I did not see eye to eye on spending. He wanted to buy things I felt were unnecessary and expensive. 1 couldn't explain to him the pain I felt as our debt mounted.
Final I decided to find a different way to express myself and influence the situation. I realized that my husband sometimes just didn't see the connection between his spending decisions and their consequences. So when he said, "lt. would really be nice to have (something)," I'd say, "You know, it would. Let's see what would happen if we bought that." I would take out the budget and say, "Now if we spend this, we won't have money to do that." When he truly saw the consequences of spending decisions, he often came to the conclusion him self that we were better off not buying the item in question. I also discovered that with some of the purchases he wanted to make, the benefits really did outweigh the drawbacks.
When people know they will have an opportunity to be fully heard, they can relax. They don't have to become over-reactive, because they know that their time to be understood will come. This dissipates negative energy and helps people develop internal patience and self-control.
This is one of the great strengths of Habit 5. Remember, the key is in the sequence: First you seek to understand another person's point of view; then you share your own. It's not just what to do. It's also why and when.
HABIT 6: SYNERGIZE
Synergy is the magic that happens when one plus one equals three-or more. It comes out of the spirit of mutual respect and understanding you've created and produces a brand-new way to solve a problem.
A friend recently told me a story that captures the essence of Habit 6:
After one week of practice, my son wanted to quit the high school basketball team. I was very disappointed. I worried that if he quit basketball he would just keep quitting things. My son didn't want to hear me at all. I was so upset I walked away.
Over the next two days, I wondered just what had made him want to quit. Finally, I decided to talk to him again. [Habit 5: seeking to understand.] At first he didn't even want to discuss it, so I asked him about other things. After some time, he began to tear up and he said,
"Dad, I know you think you understand me, but you don't. No one knows how rotten I feel."
I replied, "Pretty tough, huh?" [Habit 5: empathic listening.]
He then literally poured his heart out. He expressed his pain at constantly being compared to his brothers and said he felt I favored them, He also told me about the insecurities he felt- not only in basketball, but in all areas of his life. And he said he felt that he and I had somehow lost touch with each other.
His words really humbled me. I had the feeling that what he said about the comparisons with his brothers was true. I acknowledged my sorrow to him [Habit 1: proactivity, and-with much emotion--I apologized.
But I also told him that I still thought he would benefit from being on the team. He listened patiently, but he would not budge from his decision. Finally, I asked him if he liked basketball. He said he loved it, but he disliked all the pressure associated with playing for the school team. He said that instead, he would really like to play for the church team-but that team's coach had just moved away.
I found myself feeling good about what he was saying. I was still a little disappointed that he wouldn't be on the school team, but I was glad that he still wanted to play [Habits 4 and 5: win-win thinking and effort to understand].
At that point, almost by magic, a new idea came into both of our minds at the same time. In unison we said, "I/You could coach the church team!" [Habit 6: synergy and a new alternative solution]. The weeks I spent as the coach of that team were among the happiest of my athletic experiences. And they provided some of my most memorable experiences as a father.
This father and son seemed locked in a win-lose situation. But then the father made an important shift. He sought to really understand his son. Together they came up with a better way-an entirely new solution that was a true win for both.
The key to synergy is to celebrate the difference. It's not enough to simply tolerate differences in the family. To have the kind of creative magic we're talking about, you must be able to say sincerely, "The fact that we see things differently is a strength-not a weakness-in our relationship."
Synergy also helps you to create a culture in which you can successfully deal with any challenge you might face. The culture created by Habits 4, 5 and 6 is like an immune system. It protects your family so that when mistakes are made, or when you get blindsided by some physical, financial or social challenge, you don't get knocked out. You can deal with whatever life throws at you and use it to make the family stronger.
HABIT 7: SHARPEN THE SAW If done properly, consistently and in a balanced way, Habit 7 will cultivate all of the other six habits and keep them strong and vibrant. How? Simply by using them in renewing activities-especially, family traditions. That's what we mean by "sharpening the saw."
Traditions give family members a sense of belonging, of being understood, of being supported, of being committed to something that's greater than self. And the family renews the emotional energy of a tradition every time they revisit it.
Think of all the opportunities for fulfilling traditions:
0 Family dinners. You may have only one good meal together each week, but if it is meaningful and fun, the family table can become more of an altar than an eating counter.
0 Family vacations. Planning for a vacation, anticipating it and thinking about it-as well as laughing about the fun times and the dumb times we had on past vacations-are enormously rewarding to our family.
*Extended and intergenerational family activities. Aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins and other extended family members can have a tremendous positive influence. Broaden almost any activity, such as Sunday dinner, to include them.
*Worshipping together. Research shows that shared worship is one of the characteristics of healthy, happy families. It can create context, unity and mutual understanding- much in the same way that a family mission statement does.
*Serving together. This tradition can be tremendously renewing. Can you imagine anything more bonding, more unifying, more energizing than working together to accomplish something that is really meaningful and worthwhile?
*Working together. There are many ways to create the tradition of working together, at home or in a parent's place of business-and many benefits of doing it. Our daughter Catherine remembered:
One tradition we had in our family was the "ten-minute program." That meant that everyone would work really hard for ten minutes to clean up the house. We all knew that if we had eighteen hands working, it would go a lot faster than two.
We also had "work parties." We'd work really hard for three or four hours to get something done, but we'd have food and laugh and talk as we worked. We'd also do something fun after, like go to a movie. Everyone expected they'd have to work. It was just part of life. But it was so much better with these little treats.
As your family works together on Habit 7 and all the other habits, remember: Like a new pair of glasses or a new, more accurate map-the 7 Habits framework can help you to see and communicate more clearly, and will help you to arrive where you, as a family, want to go.
It is so easy to be reactive! You get caught Lip in the moment. You say things you dot* mean. You do things you later regret. And you think, "If only I had stopped to think about it, I never would have reacted that way!"
Family life would be a whole lot better if (people acted according to their values instead of reacting to the emotion or circumstance of the moment It's possible to develop a habit of learning to pause and give wiser responses. Proactively is the ability to act rather than react.
I have a friend who makes a powerful proactive choice every day. When she comes home from work, she sits in her car in the driveway and pauses. She takes a minute to think about the members of her family and what they are doing inside the house She considers what kind of feeling she wants to help create when she goes, inside. She says to herself, "my family is the most enjoyable, the most pleasant, the most important part of my life. I'm going to go into my home and feel and communicate my love for them."
Just think of the difference this makes in her family. And another friend told me this story, which shows Habit 1 in action:
While my wife was out of the room, my three-year-old son Brenton emptied a one-and-a-half-gallon jug of water from the fridge-most of it onto the kitchen floor. My wife's initial reaction had been to yell at him. Instead, she stopped herself and said patiently, "Brenton, what were you trying to do?"
"I was trying to be a helping man, Mom," he replied proudly.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I washed the dishes for you."
Sure enough, there on the kitchen table were all the dishes he had washed with the water from the jug.
"Well, honey, why did you use the water from the fridge?"
"I couldn't reach the water from the sink."
"Oh!" my wife said. Then she looked around. "Well, what do you think you could do next time that would make less of a mess?"
He thought about it for a minute. Then his face lit up. "I could do it in the bathroom!"
"The dishes might break in the bathroom," she replied. "But how about this? What if you came and got me and I helped you move a chair in front of the kitchen sink so you could do the work there?"
"Good idea!" he exclaimed.
As my wife was telling me what had happened, I realized how important it was that she had been able to catch herself between stimulus and response. She had made a proactive choice.
One useful way to communicate the idea of proactivity is through an analogy I call the "emotional bank account." This account is like a financial one in that you can make "deposits"-things that build trust in the relationship-or "withdrawals" - things that decrease the level of trust. The balance in the account determines how well you can communicate and solve problems with another person.
One of the great benefits of being proactive is that you can choose to make deposits instead of withdrawals. No matter what the situation, there are always things you can choose to do that will make relationships better.
Little kindnesses go a long way toward building relationships of trust and unconditional love. just think about the impact in your own family of saying "thank you," "please" or "you go first." Or performing unexpected acts of service such as phoning to see if there's anything you can pick up at the store on your way home. Twelve hugs a day-that's what people need. Hugs can be physical, verbal, visual or environmental. And each one is a deposit in the emotional bank account.
You would be hard pressed to come up with a deposit that has more impact than making and keeping promises. just think about it! How much excitement, anticipation and hope is created by a promise?
Our daughter Cynthia shared this memory:
When I was twelve, Dad promised to take me with him on a business trip to San Francisco. I was so excited! After Dad's meetings, we planned to go to Chinatown for dinner, see a movie, take a ride on a trolley car, then go back to our hotel room for hot fudge sundaes from room service. I was dying with anticipation.
The day finally arrived. The hours dragged by as I waited at the hotel. Finally, at 6:30 p.m., Dad returned with a dear friend and influential business acquaintance. My heart sank as this man said, "I'm so delighted to have you here, Stephen. Tonight, Lois and I would like to take you to the wharf for a seafood dinner, and then you must see the view from our house." I could see my hopes and plans going down the drain.
I will never forget the feeling I had when Dad said, "Gosh, Bill, I'd love to, but this is a special time with my daughter. We've already got it planned to the minute."
We did absolutely everything we had planned. I don't think any young girl ever loved her father as much as I loved mine that night.
HABIT 2: BEGIN WITH THE END IN MIND
With Habit 2, you create a clear, compelling vision of what your family is-and where you want to go together. The most profound, significant and far-reaching application of Habit 2 is the family mission statement. This is a combined, unified expression from all family members of what it is your family really wants to do and be-and the principles you choose to govern your family life.
When children are young, they generally love to be included in the process of creating a mission statement. They love helping to create something that gives them this sense of family identity.
Our daughter Catherine, who's now grown and has children of her own, said:
Before my husband and I were married, we talked about what we wanted our home to be like, especially when we had children. It was out of these discussions that we wrote our family mission statement.
We have three children now, and although our mission statement has remained fundamentally the same, it has changed a little with each child. After we had two children, we had more perspective, and we were able to realize better how we wanted to raise our kids together-how we wanted them to be upstanding citizens in the community and so on.
The children have added things to our mission statement as well. Our oldest is six. She wants to make sure we tell lots of jokes in our family, so we have added that in for her.
Every New Year's Eve we work on our mission statement and write out our goals for the coming year. Our kids are very excited about the whole process. We post our mission statement and the children refer to it often. They say, "Mom, you're not supposed to raise your voice. Remember-'happy, cheerful tones in our home."' It's a big reminder.
Here's how to create a mission statement in your family.
Step One: Explore what your family is all about. Call a family meeting to introduce the idea and start the process. Keep it short: Ten fun minutes a week over a period of several weeks will be much more effective than one or two long, philosophical discussions.
Be explicit with the idea that you want the mission statement to serve as a unifying and motivating influence for everyone in the family. Ask questions such as: What things are truly important to us as a family? What are our family's highest priority goals? What kind of relationships do we want to have with each other? What are our responsibilities as family members?
Step Two: Write your family mission statement. The process of writing crystallizes your thoughts and distills learning and insights into words. It also reinforces learning and makes the expression visible and available to everyone in the family.
Whatever you come up with at first will be a rough draft. Family members will need to work with it until everyone comes to an agreement: "This is our mission. We believe it. We buy into it. We are ready to commit to live it."
It doesn't have to be some magnificent verbal expression. It may be a word, a page, a document, even a song or a drawing. The only real criterion is that it represents everyone in the family and inspires you and brings you together.
Step Three: Stay on track. A mission statement is meant to be the constitution of your family life, the foundational document that will unify and hold your family together for decades-even generations-to come.
One father told me:
For our blended family, having a mission statement has been tremendously helpful. It gives us some common values and a common focus on where we're going. It reads: "Our family mission: To always be kind, respectful and supportive of each other, to be honest and open with each other, to keep a spiritual feeling in the home, to love each other unconditionally, to be responsible to live a happy, healthy and fulfilling life, to make this house a place we want to come home to."
We put the statement in a beautiful frame and hung it over the fireplace, and every week we have somebody share what one of those words or sentences means to him or her. It only takes two or three minutes, but it makes the mission statement come alive. We're also setting goals around the mission statement, making it a central part of our lives.
HABIT 3: PUT FIRST THINGS FIRST
There's no way we can be successful in our families if we don't prioritize them in our lives. And this is what Habit 3 is about.
There is probably no single structure that will help you to prioritize more than a weekly family night. On a typical night in our own family over the years, we would review our calendar of upcoming events, hold a council to discuss issues and problems, have a talent recital so the kids could show us how they were coming along with their music or dance lessons, do a short lesson and a family activity and serve refreshments. In this way, we'd accomplish what we've come to feel are the four main ingredients of a successful family night: planning, problem-solving, teaching and fun.
The second absolutely foundational family structure is the one-on-one bonding time. These one-on-ones are where most of the real work of the family is done. This is where the most significant sharing, the most profound teaching, the deepest bonding takes place.
A mother of five sons said:
The other day, I took My 22-year-old son out to lunch. As we ate together, we talked about his life, including his classes at school, his plans for the future, and so on.
We had a wonderful time just being together. As I thought about it later, 1 realized this is something that didn't just happen. I started this one on-one tradition when the boys were in elementary school, and it's really made a difference. I don't think I could have this kind of time with my son now if we hadn’t started doing it when he was younger.
HABIT 4 THINK "WIN-WIN"
As we move toward our destination as a family, we're sometimes thrown off track by external forces. But the force that does the greatest damage is the climate created within the family by negative emotions-competition, criticism, blaming, anger.
The key to handling these challenges is to cultivate a family culture of mutual respect, understanding and creative cooperation. This is the essence of Habits 4, 5 and 6.
One father told this story:
Our two boys were very competitive and squabbled frequently. Finally, I confronted the older boy about it. He abruptly announced, "The thing you don't get is that I can't stand my brother." 1 was shocked by the intensity of his feelings.
Then I asked the older boy to tell his brother what he'd told me. The younger boy was hurt by the cutting words. Blinking back tears, he looked down and quietly said, "Why?"
His brother was quick with his answer: "Because you're always saying things that make me mad. I just don't want to be around you."
The younger brother sighed. "I do that because every time we play a game you always win."
"Sure I do," the older boy quickly replied. "I'm better than you."
With that, the little boy could hardly speak. But he said, "Yeah, but every time you win, I lose. So I say things to bug you. I just cant stand to lose all the time."
These tearful words reached the heart of the older brother. The tone of his words softened as he said, "I'm sorry. But will you please just stop saying and doing the stupid things that make me so mad at you?"
"OK," the younger boy replied. "And will you stop feeling that you always have to win?"
I know I'll never forget my young son’s words. Losing all the time, or even most of the time, can make any of us say and do stupid things that bug others and even ourselves.
No one likes to "lose" _especially in close family relationships. So win-win is the only solid foundation for effective family interaction. It's the only pattern of thinking and interacting that builds long-term relationships of trust and unconditional love. And all it takes to change the situation is for one person to think win-win.
Thinking win-win means you have this spirit of win-win in all family interactions. You always want what's best for everyone involved.
Of course, there will be times when you'll have to say no to children. This doesn’t feel like a win to them. But if you cultivate the spirit of win-win whenever you can, children will better understand and accept those decisions that sometimes seem to them to be win-lose. There are several ways to achieve this.
* Let them win in the little things. In our family, if children want to go outside, get their clothes dirty or leave a cardboard fort in the house for weeks, we generally let them do it. We try to distinguish between matters of principle and matters of preference, and only take a stand on things that really count.
* Talk with them about the big things. That way they'll know you have their welfare in mind. Try to involve them in the problem and work out the solution together.
*Take steps to offset the competition focus. Recently, 1 went to watch our granddaughter play in an important soccer match, which ultimately ended in a tie. Her team was demoralized, and the coach was deeply disappointed also.
So I began to say enthusiastically, "Great game, kids! You had five goals-to try your best, to have fun, to work together as a team, to learn and to win. You accomplished four and a half of those goals. That's ninety Percent! Congratulations!"
You could just see their eyes brighten up. And it wasn't long until players, coach and parents were celebrating the four and a half goals these kids had achieved.
HABIT 5: SEEK FIRST TO UNDERSTAND ... THEN TO BE UNDERSTOOD
There's simply no way to have rich, rewarding family relationships without real understanding. Most mistakes with our family members are not the result of bad intent. It's just that we don't understand. We don't see clearly into each other's hearts.
Really listening to get inside another person's mind and heart is called "empathic" listening. It enables you to see as someone else sees-and it also helps family members feel safe in sharing, gets to the real issues and helps people connect with their own unique gifts.
Suppose that for several days, your teenage daughter has seemed unhappy. One night, while you're washing dishes together, she finally begins to open up: "Our family rule that I cant date until I'm older is embarrassing me to death. All my friends are dating. I feel like I'm out of it."
An empathic response would attempt to reflect back what your daughter feels and says, so that she would feel that you really understand. For example: "You kind of feel torn up inside. You understand the rule, but you feel embarrassed when you have to say no to dates. Is that what you mean?"
She might say yes and go on deeper into her feelings. Or she may say,
"Well, not exactly. What I really mean is..." \When you give an understanding response, you make it safe for her to open up. You make it comfortable for her to air the problem so that together you can search for solutions. And you build the relationship.
There are other expressions of empathy besides summarizing and reflecting. Sometimes total silence may be empathic; sometimes a nod or a single word is empathic. Empathy is a very flexible, sincere and humble process.
But there's more to Habit 5. It doesn't mean seek only to understand. It simply means that you listen and understand first. This is the key to .being understood and influencing others. When you are open to their influence, you'll almost always have greater influence with them.
One woman shared this:
My husband and I did not see eye to eye on spending. He wanted to buy things I felt were unnecessary and expensive. 1 couldn't explain to him the pain I felt as our debt mounted.
Final I decided to find a different way to express myself and influence the situation. I realized that my husband sometimes just didn't see the connection between his spending decisions and their consequences. So when he said, "lt. would really be nice to have (something)," I'd say, "You know, it would. Let's see what would happen if we bought that." I would take out the budget and say, "Now if we spend this, we won't have money to do that." When he truly saw the consequences of spending decisions, he often came to the conclusion him self that we were better off not buying the item in question. I also discovered that with some of the purchases he wanted to make, the benefits really did outweigh the drawbacks.
When people know they will have an opportunity to be fully heard, they can relax. They don't have to become over-reactive, because they know that their time to be understood will come. This dissipates negative energy and helps people develop internal patience and self-control.
This is one of the great strengths of Habit 5. Remember, the key is in the sequence: First you seek to understand another person's point of view; then you share your own. It's not just what to do. It's also why and when.
HABIT 6: SYNERGIZE
Synergy is the magic that happens when one plus one equals three-or more. It comes out of the spirit of mutual respect and understanding you've created and produces a brand-new way to solve a problem.
A friend recently told me a story that captures the essence of Habit 6:
After one week of practice, my son wanted to quit the high school basketball team. I was very disappointed. I worried that if he quit basketball he would just keep quitting things. My son didn't want to hear me at all. I was so upset I walked away.
Over the next two days, I wondered just what had made him want to quit. Finally, I decided to talk to him again. [Habit 5: seeking to understand.] At first he didn't even want to discuss it, so I asked him about other things. After some time, he began to tear up and he said,
"Dad, I know you think you understand me, but you don't. No one knows how rotten I feel."
I replied, "Pretty tough, huh?" [Habit 5: empathic listening.]
He then literally poured his heart out. He expressed his pain at constantly being compared to his brothers and said he felt I favored them, He also told me about the insecurities he felt- not only in basketball, but in all areas of his life. And he said he felt that he and I had somehow lost touch with each other.
His words really humbled me. I had the feeling that what he said about the comparisons with his brothers was true. I acknowledged my sorrow to him [Habit 1: proactivity, and-with much emotion--I apologized.
But I also told him that I still thought he would benefit from being on the team. He listened patiently, but he would not budge from his decision. Finally, I asked him if he liked basketball. He said he loved it, but he disliked all the pressure associated with playing for the school team. He said that instead, he would really like to play for the church team-but that team's coach had just moved away.
I found myself feeling good about what he was saying. I was still a little disappointed that he wouldn't be on the school team, but I was glad that he still wanted to play [Habits 4 and 5: win-win thinking and effort to understand].
At that point, almost by magic, a new idea came into both of our minds at the same time. In unison we said, "I/You could coach the church team!" [Habit 6: synergy and a new alternative solution]. The weeks I spent as the coach of that team were among the happiest of my athletic experiences. And they provided some of my most memorable experiences as a father.
This father and son seemed locked in a win-lose situation. But then the father made an important shift. He sought to really understand his son. Together they came up with a better way-an entirely new solution that was a true win for both.
The key to synergy is to celebrate the difference. It's not enough to simply tolerate differences in the family. To have the kind of creative magic we're talking about, you must be able to say sincerely, "The fact that we see things differently is a strength-not a weakness-in our relationship."
Synergy also helps you to create a culture in which you can successfully deal with any challenge you might face. The culture created by Habits 4, 5 and 6 is like an immune system. It protects your family so that when mistakes are made, or when you get blindsided by some physical, financial or social challenge, you don't get knocked out. You can deal with whatever life throws at you and use it to make the family stronger.
HABIT 7: SHARPEN THE SAW If done properly, consistently and in a balanced way, Habit 7 will cultivate all of the other six habits and keep them strong and vibrant. How? Simply by using them in renewing activities-especially, family traditions. That's what we mean by "sharpening the saw."
Traditions give family members a sense of belonging, of being understood, of being supported, of being committed to something that's greater than self. And the family renews the emotional energy of a tradition every time they revisit it.
Think of all the opportunities for fulfilling traditions:
0 Family dinners. You may have only one good meal together each week, but if it is meaningful and fun, the family table can become more of an altar than an eating counter.
0 Family vacations. Planning for a vacation, anticipating it and thinking about it-as well as laughing about the fun times and the dumb times we had on past vacations-are enormously rewarding to our family.
*Extended and intergenerational family activities. Aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins and other extended family members can have a tremendous positive influence. Broaden almost any activity, such as Sunday dinner, to include them.
*Worshipping together. Research shows that shared worship is one of the characteristics of healthy, happy families. It can create context, unity and mutual understanding- much in the same way that a family mission statement does.
*Serving together. This tradition can be tremendously renewing. Can you imagine anything more bonding, more unifying, more energizing than working together to accomplish something that is really meaningful and worthwhile?
*Working together. There are many ways to create the tradition of working together, at home or in a parent's place of business-and many benefits of doing it. Our daughter Catherine remembered:
One tradition we had in our family was the "ten-minute program." That meant that everyone would work really hard for ten minutes to clean up the house. We all knew that if we had eighteen hands working, it would go a lot faster than two.
We also had "work parties." We'd work really hard for three or four hours to get something done, but we'd have food and laugh and talk as we worked. We'd also do something fun after, like go to a movie. Everyone expected they'd have to work. It was just part of life. But it was so much better with these little treats.
As your family works together on Habit 7 and all the other habits, remember: Like a new pair of glasses or a new, more accurate map-the 7 Habits framework can help you to see and communicate more clearly, and will help you to arrive where you, as a family, want to go.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)